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| Copyright@Heather Johnson 2003 Where will ye goest, and what shalt thy do, when thee awakens, in 2002? Thou words will be archaic. Thou clothes tattered and torn. Ye wilst believe 'twas a dream, and shall wish it was morn. Ye will look in the library, to the books on the shelves, and thou will see a special one, 'twas written by thyself. Ye faintly remembers, penning those words with their quirks. Whoest placed those words and thou name in this book? Thou shalt then realize, ye hath finally found fame, yet not one will believe, thou art the one of that name. |
| Post-Mortum Fame |