Thursday, October 13, 2016

We Become a Memory as We Move On …





A poem written by me I saw on a Facebook Memory this morning:



It's a sad day when we live to the moment when we realize ... we must die. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.




We Become a Memory as We Move On …
Posted on October 13, 2015

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter









On the porch sat an old woman
A smile played on her face
Her eyes were looking inward
At memories from days gone by


She was a faded rose
Once she was a rose of all roses
Looking at her now … one could see
She had been beautiful in her time


Her soft smile used to win many a heart
Today, her smile was kind, soft
Her slender body graceful, fragile
She walked slower now


A tear fell on her cheek
Another one followed
Then … one more
She met up with a memory
That made her sad


Soon … she was smiling again
She rose from the swing she sat in
It was time to go inside
Tomorrow she would come back out
To sit in her swing


Play with her memories once again
As she did each day
She knew she’d be going home soon
How she knew she did not know
She knew she was ready to go


There was no longer a need for her now
In with the new … out with the old
To make room for the young, the old must go


That night she fell asleep with a smile on her face
She went from life to death peacefully
To the other world where she was welcomed
All her loved ones greeted her with open arms
She held her arms out to embrace them


These were the memories in her mind
She sat in the swing smiling about
Now … she had become a memory
In with the young … out with the old


People go to make room
For others to follow in their place
We become memories as they make their own


We die so that they can live
Generation after generation
We become a memory as we move on




Note by this Author:
Poem/photo written, owned by me. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter.
Reality is … one day we have to die. We have no choice … one day we … become a memory.