This reflection is part of Margins of the First Draft — a collection of poetry and personal thoughts on love, memory, and inspiration.
Here, I wonder about the quiet hope of making someone eternal through art.
3. And she was afraid of him fading
So,
Today
I wrote a poem
Crippled by my fear
That he will fade into the cruel passing of time
Forgotten, lost
Like my admiration
Rotting
Ten feet under
Poetry on the Margins #3 Ten Feet Above
Such a gentle feeling and such strong words.
Ever since I was a kid and knew that I wanted to write,
I always thought how beautiful it would be — the thought alone —
to make someone “eternal.”
Whether it’s through poetry, a painting, a song —
when I die, my words will be here.
And so will be the people that inspired me.
And that’s exactly what I hope for.
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Links to more of my work:
If you like reading an emotionally packed short story here you can find multiple of them: Six-Sentence Stories, Short Stories, Romance and All That, Dead Poet
And a brand new addition to my poetry tab: On the margins of the First Draft
My band “Chaos in Spring” can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
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