Comments on Browning's "The Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church" by Sikes

This poem got me to thinkin' 'bout who will remember me when I'm dead 'n gone. If a bishop got no hope of being 'membered 'cept for how big and fancy his tomb is, what worth does my life have in the schema' things? All my life I've been livin' day to day with no regard to the future, 'specially not my death, and 'specially not after my death. What can a criminal hope for out of his life if a bishop can't e'en make sure his life will be remembered? What dif'rence have I made? Who knows what I'ma even sayin' anymore, I'm going somewhere far worse than that Bishop anyways. I guess it don't matter whether I worry over these things anyway's, maybe I was meant to be forgotten. I tell you wot, if I was his son's I'd be getting my hands on that lapis stone and spend rest of my days somewhere better than this gloomy London.