FebPoWriMo 7

We have no idea 
If what we make 
Will be memorable 
To anyone else 

Least of all ourselves 
At some point 
In the future when 
We are unrecognizable 

And have forgotten
What we kept in 
Secret made known 
Only to a few 

Strands of carbon 
Placed neatly together 
Breathing momentarily 
For the foreseeable 

Until it is gone