The Jabberwock

You ask me what my favorite memory of life was. 

And I did not know. 

So instead, you led

Me down a small 

Path, showing me everything. 

You ask again, and I still can’t answer. 

I reply, “why am I dead if I had 

Good memories?”You frown at 

My words. 

You took my hand and 

Showed me faces and 

Smiles I’m supposed to miss 

Yet I did not feel a thing. 

You continue to walk me 

Towards a door. 

I step in, allowing my last breath to be carried by 

The wind.