Dust

When we enter this world

We know little of it.

When we turn ten years old

We still know little of it.

‍

And soon we ask ourselves,

What is my purpose?

‍

Though everyone is temporary,

Each person leaves a mark

And each mark leaves a trail

And that trail can change the world.

‍

It all depends on what you do

In the time when the world still has

space for you,

In the time when you still float in the wind

As dust.