From dust we were made,
shaped and molded bodies of clay.
Our lives, along the way,
Filled with events, in life's play.
There's always tomorrow, let's live for today.
but slowly this 'ol world, chips away.
With each day, we grow and age,
As the outer shell, grows frail in decay.
And like our taxes, we cannot evade,
We all too, shall pass away.
Our Souls will fly home, high above, faraway,
our bodies will fade,
to the dust,
whence we we came.
But Memories of Us,
All Will Remain,
What will be the ones,
that you've made?
©nec
N