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Dirt
Dirt
Though we may live
We can’t escape our fate
Everyone passes
Each, on a specific date.
Our names are written
for all to see
Conveniently in the obituary.
We have mournings and longings
to see the one who’s passed
But deep in our mind we knew
That life wasn’t going to last.
We are taught to live life
to the brink of joy
But the truth is
All of us are just a toy.
Caught inside the circle of life.
Everyone gets a turn.
But when our turn is up
We return into the ground
as Dirt for the worms the churn.
