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Array
(
[sid] => 14545
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => When I die.
[time] => 2003-03-19 10:35:00
[hometext] => Everyone dies and wants to be remembered in one way or thee other. This poem of mine talks about the kind of ideal life I would love to live after death.
[bodytext] => When I die,
My body will turn to ashes, If someone has ever known me, Liked me or loved me, His or her world will come down crashing. Tears might flow when a loved one remembers me, Sitting up there with holy lord I would be holding every drop of those tears on my hand And will be thanking you for loving me. Day after day as one gets on with life, I will become just a photo in your album and will be remembered when you open the album and will recollect your past life. I will never remember the good that I have done, Isn’t it some thing that is to be forgotten after it is done? What I will remember is a harsh word I might have said, Which might have hurt someone. I have lived my life in my poems, I will always live with my poems. Praise is something, which everyone wants, If one doesn’t receive it, It becomes like a bad spirit that haunts. “ Oh! Bhavik how do these things matter to you now, As you are dead.” asks death. I say my dearest friend death every time someone will read my poem, I will be walking up and down around him, Until he finishes and reacts to my poem. I don’t claim to be good, Because it comes with ego in disguise with a hood. When I die don’t pour my ashes in the water, Don’t throw them around, If there is some empty space, just mix them with mother earth. I would love to be a part of the soil, which gives us beautiful flowers and animals, Nutritious vegetables, Space to live and won’t it be lovely to be one with mother earth. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 40 [informant] => bhav [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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