From dust we came and dust
we go,
But somewhere in between,
Is where we show just who we are,
If you know what I mean.
For that is where we
learn to love,
And also feel pain,
But then when all is said and done,
We all just look the same.
We're many
colours in this life,
Some yellow, white or black,
Some rich or poor or in between,
Or fallen through the crack.
But when our days have
been fulfilled,
And we are gone away,
It's only dust we leave behind,
Just simple, cold and gray.
We're only dust,
that's what we are,
And dust is what we'll be,
But with the time that's given us,
Let's find who makes up "me".
From dust we came and
dust we go,
And soon our time will come,
When all that's left is simple dust,
To death we will succumb.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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