concrete will break and fall apart
wrought-iron rebar rusts until it breaks with a gust of wind
but nature will always win
there will be no one left to pull up the stubborn weeds from the sidewalk cracks
no one left to tend to the perfectly manicured lawn with the perfectly manicured flowerbeds
no one to care when the world becomes overgrown once again
you and i
we'll be quite dead
but life will heal itself, growing over the poorly placed bandaids on top of a rotten, infected wound