sunshine cemetery.

i miss being a kid.
i feel old and desperate.
i'm dying.
but aren't we all?
dying a little bit every day.
each night draws us closer to our last.

doomed to end as ashes falling pathetically off the edge of a cliff.
into the wind that blows us apart,
never to be put back together again.
or buried in the ground in some creepy cemetery with a granite name tag on top of our chests.
tears feeding the roots that wrap around our oak wood coffins.
either way,
there's no escaping our binding fates.
from the dust of the earth we are put together,
to the dust we inevitably return.