Far above the clouds
Wisps of smoke drift from houses
So many lives
So many souls
We take for granted that we are not the only ones
I think we forget others exist
As our world pushes closer to death
Living
Working
Bringing up our children
Always hoping they will grow into something good
Blood sweat and tears
A life well lived
As old age grows like moss around your limbs
The house you must sell
When your partner in life crosses over
Things you must sell
To make room for the small place you now find yourself in
A box
A hard life
A lost love
It comes to this for many
Ending your days
In a room chatting to yourself
For none rarely come to visit
Surrounded by your memories
Tokens of love
Pictures on holiday
Random things picked along the way
You know
Sitting in your small home now
You know
They will throw away that which they cannot sell
A few pictures kept
A thing here or there that sparks memory
Maybe
Maybe not
Far above the clouds it really doesn’t matter
They are just history repeating itself
Waiting to happen
They shall become that which they pity
We all do
No matter how you bring your children up
Greed takes control
A select few break the mould
Not everyone is the same
Until money comes into play
Friends become enemies
Lover’s turn to hate
Family lay shattered on the Earth
Everything you spent your life building breaks
With death comes death of all things
Comes boxes in the garbage
Filled with holiday pictures and things collected along the way
Items unable to sell
Pointless artifacts from an old woman and her husband
Memories never told
Memories best forgotten
Now that those who cared for them have gone
Far above the clouds