Irony

Mortal beings that we are,
Soon we will turn into ash and dust,
And all that will remain of us will be memories.
We featured in so many of people's lives.
Some in a good way, and in some, bad.
Sometimes unintentionally, and sometimes a misunderstanding.

We nimbly scoot past souls,
Hoping to not topple over the fragile,
And yet some rush past,
Leaving our hearts in debris.

Ah human existence,
The epitome of irony.

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