Over and over and over.

One of these days. I’m going to be gone. And forgotten. As if I never existed. There’ll be no sign that I ever lived. That’s all right with me. Though I would just as soon live forever. So that I could keep remembering. That I’m still alive. And with it. There’s something nice. About being able to grasp and savor life. Yes, to be conscious of one’s existence. And to be able to fall in love. Over and over and over. --Jim Broede