Imagine

Imagination what’s left.
Where to go from here?
Enjoy the time left.
I think of my brothers.
One having died…
One living and afraid to die, afraid to die alone.
We all are concerned to die alone…
The look on my brothers face as he died, the anguish he left as if something was undone but didn’t know what and was about to die with a legacy fragmented and telling and no one to tell…
Having left our legacies without attention… So many in our world leave no legacy after death; legacies left without intent, others intended and no one cares…
Why do we exist if no intent is meant…
Why give birth without intent in your child… Try… For the child’s sake and yours…
Am I writing with intent, with concern that someone will notice? Should I? Why write? To publish? Write for someone to read…

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