When life is done, if memories last,
I will hold the good times from my past.
Fond memories, of carried smiles,
euphoric flurries, when laughs ran wild.
Every old road will become slides,
bright carnivals, packed with fun rides,
Possessions owned, now left behind,
for all I worked, I earned my pride.
All lessons learned, fly from their jars,
light up the sky, form shiny stars.
The ugly times will then be buried,
as my soul clears without a worry.
Until that day, I will live well,
creating tales others can tell.
Open my eyes to read my story,
close them once more, relive the glory.
– Grace Y. Estevez