Transcend prose poem

Photo by Wonderlane

We enter the scene but do not hang around, shortly back into the ether we bound.
We are just flesh and bone, in the end just ashes and soot is all that is found.
It’s what we leave behind that may make a difference, that may make a sound.
It is ideas that remain after we are gone, it is ideas that can make the world go around. It’s what we think that matters, that may be profound.
The measure of us is not we existed, but what thoughts and
ideas did we bring and expound. What ideas did we sow and which ones took root are the ones that are passed around.
Riches acquired mean nothing in the end, it’s what’s in our minds that ultimately transcends.

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