Who am I

As I look up into the sky,
I ask myself who am I?
Will history remember me when I'm gone?
Or am I one more unsung song?
Who will I have been in 100 years?
Am I the only one with these fears?
There are no kids to follow me,
I'm the end of the branch on my family tree.
Why am I here?
Then it hits me the answer so clear.
I've been put here to create,
Publish my words before it's too late.
Words can hurt,
Words can heal,
Words affect how we feel.
If I can make one person smile,
It makes my writing all worth while.
One day people will look back and see,
A machinist, a poet, an author, all me.
From the mind of G