Remember me

The face of scars and hate stare me in the face, stuck with no way out approaches at a mild pace. I stand staring down the hall, hoping, crawling, falling from this world and out of this place. Him with raised hand I see the blade, nothing stops this world from digging my grave. While dirt surrounds my coffin, I remember what I left and what I did, nothing with my life to leave a mark, yet my blood on the old wood floor is mark enough. Is it enough for them to remember? Remember what I did and who I was, should I care, should I stop or move into the light? I think I'll go for now, maybe someday come back. But until that day, remember me in your own special way.