A bossy ghost I work for: she
who only lives in words on the page
and has no thoughts I do not give her.
She has no flesh, and will not age.
Why should I care
if she survives when I am gone?
And yet I do, though well advised
most of us fall into the bag
of the forgotten or despised –
knowing if traces do remain
they will not make us
live again – still carry on.
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