Sunrise.
Sunset.
Oh how I forget,
another passing day,
and how it brings me one more step closer to my inevitable grave.
What morbid thought is this?
That my life is made of memories.
And memories are things I forget.
Do I forget myself?
Ahhhh Somebody please help.
I forgot my life was still there.
I need to be more self-aware.
I cannot blink only stare.
For then I could spot it running up on me.
Yes if I could only see.
Oh Death please forget me.

What meaning is in this life.
If the tasks of history are only going to drift away in our minds.
Oh **** you the passing time.
Sand drops drip one by one,
into the hourglass of the setting sun.
It goes by so fast when you look, yet faster when you don’t.
What torture is this? What a burden to add to the list.
Well the meaning of life is this:


A Painter paints a fence.
Yet with each passing day the Painter memories of the fence fade away.
Yet the paint remains. His actions stay the same!


A Farmer farms a field what a ferocious crop he yeilds.
Yet the crop he remembers no more.  
What a sorrowful tale of yore.
But wait theirs more...
The grass grows...
The corn crows!
The plants dance!!!
All because of the Farmers ***.
The crop grows up to the elbows!
All because of the actions of this average joe. 


So in the end remember please.
What your life means to the rest of we. 

A life is a seed.
A legacy.
When your gone its a song that can still grow. 

So fill your seed with love...
..sit back....
....and in death watch the show.