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When I Die
When I die,
Only a few will care.
My friends, my family,
the ones who were there.
When I die,
People will say,
“That's sad.”
And go on with their day
like they currently had.
When I die
They will forget my looks,
my words
and that I even had a place
in this cruel, cruel world.
When I die,
I will be mourned for a year.
And after that,
My story will disappear.
When I die,
A flower will be put on my grave.
However, no one will pass a simple gaze.
When I die,
My body will decay.
And my soul will be with the others who lay.
How I will die,
I do not know.
Not until the grim reaper,
Steals my soul.
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I truly do feel that this is the truth behind a common death.