The man on the corner
Insane, eyes filled with fear
He holds a sign
The end is coming,
It’s almost here
Is he the crazy one,
Or is he our Paul Rivere?
Does it Matter?
Should you even care?
One day you’ll leave this place,
who will remember what you did while
you were here?
Maybe your friends will remember you,
They say you’ll live on through them,
So when they die, do you die again?
Then again,
How do you even know you’re real?
Not Imaginary?
Not Pretend?