a printed name

I’m just a printed name on a daily paper
in a small town
searching the streets
for something that you might want to read 
I spend my days on numbered notes
knowing a hungry stomach
fares better
than a hungry soul
and when I die
I will be a name on a whiteboard
wiped away when dusk descends
by the hand of a skillful YMA member
and if my family is merciful
I will be the name
In the corner of the daily Vanglaini
a year later
gone but not forgotten
It would say
So that you may glance upon my name
and remember
I once searched the streets
looking for something
you might want to hear
that i was once a printed name
on a daily paper
where another name now sits
looking for something
you might want to know.