by Dwayne Phillips
We are here; we are gone. Sorry, others will forget us.
I’m sorry, but it will be forgotten, and I will be forgotten as well. Sure, computer technology can store my life, but someone has to pay attention, and that is where it falls apart.
In some library somewhere are copies of some of the books I have written. How long will these libraries stand? When will they dump my books into a bonfire as they convert from paper to something else at the local library?
It is just a matter of time. Again, sorry.