The Only Reason to Write


Over one hundred billion humans have inhabited this earth

Till the moment of their death and since the moment of their birth

Each of them working, to advance the human race

Past humans work can be seen any where you go, in any random place

And almost all those hard workers will never see my face

It is their past work that makes my life easy and great

It is their past work, not the work of fate

I am one of those one hundred billion to inhabit this earth

I write because its the only thing I can leave of worth

Perhaps in the future, in a very long while

Some little human will read my work and smile

Maybe they will be inspired to do great things because of what they read

Because of the pieces of writing my pen has shed

I write to ensure those humans work before me, will never be forgot

I write for those humans of tomorrow, and there sure are a lot

Remember the work of the humans we mourn

And anticipate the work of those humans that are yet to be born




Guide that inspired this poem: 


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