In A Hundred Years Will Anybody Care?

Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone
The name and date are chisled out
on polished marble stone,
It reaches out to all who care,
it is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist
you died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
in flesh, in blood, and bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
entirely not our own.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled
one hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
who would have loved you so
I wonder how you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot

And thank the Lord for you.

Authur Unknown