Mortal Contemplation Poem by Matthew Holloway

In the years to come I shall die
for it is my fate, all of our fates
if we are willing to be precise
with the only differential being time
and that of which we leave behind
a legacy of material collection
and dreams harboured, some achieved
I wonder what will be mine
for the man who dreams of being a poet
will there be papers or books
will there be wasted years
bound for landfill sites
or will there be someone saying
I remember him, I liked his poems