Funny this life we live, there is so much more to see.
The heavens above, filled with no love,
The moon in the sky, larger then you or I.
Can't you see it, the size of it all?
We are ants infesting a house,
A flea eating a mouse.
Where will we be in a few hundred years?
Will we be in tiny boxes living useless fears?
Will we be in the ground, never to be found?
Will you be remembered, for who you use to be?
Perhaps by a few, but never truly by me,
For how am I to know, someone I've never seen?
Time has flown by, it's to late for you and me.
Why do you live, when time will soon blink,
and you will be gone, faster then you think?