“Is anybody happier
Because you passed his way?
Does anyone remember
That you spoke to him today?
This day is almost over,
And its toiling time is through;
Is there anyone to utter now,
A friendly word for you?
Can you say tonight in passing,
With the day that slipped so fast,
That you helped a single person,
Of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing,
Over what you did or said?
Does one whose hopes were fading
Now with courage look ahead?
Did you waste the day, or lose it?
Was it well or poorly spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness,
Or a scar of discontent?”
A scrap of paper that was stuck in a Sylvia Plath book I found while exploring a used bookstore with an old love. Although it’s cheesy, I carried it around for a couple years.