Will they wonder, about the life I lead
Or ignore me, and walk by my cemetery bed
I wonder if I made a Time Capsule, and buried it somewhere
Would they be interested, or would they even care

I'm sure if a relative, was doing our family tree
And they stumbled upon me, in their genealogy
They might wonder who I could be
And want to know, a little more about me

I'd be living my life, in the spirit world at that time
They'd be living their life, and be in their prime
Do you ever walk through the Cemetery
And wonder who the people are that they bury

Some names are familiar, some are unknown
Dates of their births and deaths, are always shown
Someone put flowers, right by that stone
Even though by now, they are all bone

In Two Hundred years or more, will anyone wonder who I am
Will they look at my grave and think “who were you Ma'am?”

I often wonder, if I am the only one who walks through
the cemetery, wondering about all the people who have
passed and are buried there. Who were they? I remember
not long ago someone posted something and it said
“Just think, in 200 years from now, nobody will
know who you are.” I love the feeling that people
do know me. Even if not personally.

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