They always say    

That we should live our lives to the fullest,

And be the best we could be;

Maybe we could make a difference.

But in the end,

Our lives lose importance.

We are born,

We live our lives as we choose,

And then we die,

Forgotten in time,forever.

Life is such a fleeting thing.

Soon,we'll all be just dust in the wind

Blowing over an endless sea,

And across an ageless sky.

Every moment passed is a moment lost.

A life is nothing more than one pebble

In the mountain of time,

One star in the Heavens,

One grain of sand on an infinite beach.

When this life is over,we will all die,

And the memories of us will be forgotten,

And we will all

Just keep on blowing

Til the end of time

Like dust in the wind.  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem was published in The Page,a poetry zine by the Writer's Circle at Elyria High in 1996.

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