Looking back, what will I leave?
Sadness, joy, or bickering?
Will people smile as they remember
Those moments spent, us two together?
Will they laugh, or rather cry?
Be gratified, or give a sigh?
How did I spend my life on earth?
The pain endured, how much was worth?
The weeds, the wheat, the flowers strewn
Will be the writing on my tomb.
clarakatalin 
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