THE THINGS WE LEAVE BEHIND

The years arrive like falling rain,
Then disappear and come again.
They leave their traces day by day,
Then slowly watch them fade away.

We chase our dreams across the miles,
Through shattered roads and fleeting smiles.
We build our worlds with weary hands,
Like castles drawn upon the sands.

The morning sun begins to rise,
Then slowly fades from painted skies.
Another day, another chance,
Another step within the dance.

We spend our youth believing time
Will always march in perfect rhyme.
Yet seasons pass without a sound,
And all we knew is scattered round.

The houses where our laughter grew,
The streets we ran, the friends we knew,
Become like photographs that fade,
Like distant echoes memory made.

The strongest oak may touch the sky,
Yet even mighty forests die.
The mountains standing proud and tall
Will one day weather, crack, and fall.

The rivers winding to the sea
Ask no permission, nor agree.
They simply flow through joy and pain,
Then lose themselves in waves again.

And still we fight. And still we climb.
We bargain with the hands of time.
We search for meaning in the dust,
Because we feel somehow we must.

Men crossed the oceans seeking gold,
While others feared becoming old.
Some built their kingdoms toward the sky,
Then watched their grand ambitions die.

Yet every king and every thief,
Every triumph, every grief,
Must someday face the setting sun,
And leave behind what they have done.

The wealth we gather fades away,
The strongest walls decay one day.
No vault can lock the years outside,
No empire stands against the tide.

But love remains in quiet ways.
It lingers through the passing days.
A helping hand, a word sincere,
A voice that calmed another’s fear.

A lesson spoken years ago
Still helps a stranger you don’t know.
A trembling hand once pulled from pain
Found strength enough to rise again.

These things endure when we are gone,
Like distant verses in a song.
They travel farther than we know,
And bloom in places we won’t go.

For every life becomes a thread,
Through countless roads and days ahead.
A single act, a simple role,
May leave its mark upon a soul.

And when at last our journey ends,
Beyond our loved ones and our friends,
Perhaps the measure of our days
Was found within our smallest ways.

Perhaps it lives within the grace
We left behind in time and space.
The good we did. The hope we gave.
The hearts we touched. The souls we saved.

For stars may burn and stars may die,
While countless ages wander by.
Yet kindness cast into the night
May travel farther into the light.

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