End of the road, no time to look back, paved in silver and gold, was the walk of my path, I've lived a good life, Stood on top of the world, I've been priviledged to diamonds, money, all sorts of riches and pearls. I've made it to the top, without a helping hand, even managing to escape, aiding my fellow man, I've loved no one, to me it wasn't needed, the goals I pursued were all important, and in the end I succeeded. This is how I lived, my so called life, Never any children, never a wife. I lived behind my office, and hostile takeovers every now and then a new suit, and my mother a makeover. But at end of the road, in hindsight, darkness was all I seen, in this so called life. They buried me, amongst the richest people, who all had nothing to give, No one said goodbye to me, Or knew that I lived. No one to miss me, My summer burying was likened to cold december, at the End of my road, I was barely remembered. The gravediggers pouring beer on my grave, Not one loved one to leave a flower, sadly I thought life was about, wealth and power, I liken my death, to that of a scrooge, except I am even without, a bitter nephew. All the expensive Yaches, and people I'd meet on worldly trips that I'd take, Now they pass my belongings, to the government and state. Of what was left that they hadn't sold, and used my earnings, to build city roads. No children, no loved ones, Not even a wife. In reflection, of my so called life.
Reason for writing:
I went to this funeral of this Man. And no one showed up. But a handle full of people. Treat people in life, the way you would expect to be treated in death.
Birth sign: Aquarius
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