The End

If there is solely this life

Only these counted breaths

If there is no next life

Merely decay and worms

Still, how sad is a life

Filled with only getting

When it is all said and done

And all we have amassed 

Is wealth and it’s accoutrements 

Lands and houses which remain

Art and jewelry not following us

As the lid is closed, titanium or oak

It is inconsequential at this point

It has been written and said

We enter this life with nothing

We will leave it just the same

Even though it is only partially true

The sentiment is about half truth

We enter this measured existence 

With a finite number of heart beats

Each one bringing us closer to the last

How will I be remembered 

When I have used up all of my words

When I have spoken and heard my last

Who will remember and rehearse

When I have left behind

All my material gains

Small or vast

There are still questions

Have I made a difference

Have I helped others

Have I left this shared world

Better than I found it

Beyond the tomorrows

After my eventual end

Will there be remnants

Of my grace and kindness

Will I be loved

For the love I’ve shown

After all, it’s what matters

In the end

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

May 16, 2020