We all die alone at least I’ll have my memories
as for all the crap I’ve accumulated let it go
scrape the barnacles off my hull
no children at my deathbed no relatives in the hallway.
We all die alone with our thoughts and memories our yearnings and regret
with the good the bad and the indifferent sides of who we were and what we did
straining to fathom how we came to be here now
this locus of time and circumstance wherein we worked our will.
If there is wisdom here we impart it only to ourselves
the ripples of our lives have already reached unknown shores
any effect eventually fades with our passing
it lives only in the half-life of memory and decaying atoms.
Yet others will soon pass this way
they will honor or detest us as we honor and detest those gone before us
the unbroken circle describes the boundary of our explorations
these uncharted islands sun dappled and storm tossed were our home.
Poet13's Blog 
Don’t scare us but I feel the same way. Remember: you have been to Paris, “slept” with Egyptian kings, have known true love, and had martinis with me!
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Indeed. Not meant as a self-pitying complaint. Just a statement of the often plaintive nature of our existence. Thanks!.
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This touches deeply. I’m sure most can relate.
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Even though they might not want to. Thanks.
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Jack?
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Still here. It’s just a poem, not a suicide note.
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