Family Tree

[ShadowsCool]

A hundred years hence your a dusted relic in a photo album
Seeing the light of day when recalled on a cold machine
As some byte grown out of some fond curiosity
By a future relative looking up your family tree.

When you lived you lived a life full of wonder and joy.
You accomplished it all: the kids, the house, the gold.
You walked on the grandest yellow brick road
But now your a dusted relic in a photo album.

They read you, your accomplishments, your dreams
The places you got your kicks, your habits, your hangouts,
Nights at the opera, even your checkered past;
But now you see the light of day when recalled on a cold machine.

Your in remembrance now, stuck in some overgrown musty grave,
With an inscription: He came, He went, He gave
How they sneered at you under the dusty desert sky;
Now your just a computer byte brought out for their fond curiosity.

They looked back, dug up their roots, even left you alone for years.
Yet here you are on some tree chart, with a grand old smile and a bib around your neck.
You look silly, but what do you know? They know it all!
Your just a relic to a future relative looking up their family tree.

Do not despair, old soul that once called earth home,
No, do not despair! You found your resting place beyond this grave.
If only you knew how they envy you now, for they never rest of their despair,
They hold all your old fears, a hundred years hence
They too are a dusted relic brought out by some fond curiosity.

[everyadventure]

An interesting theme, here. Love the details like "nights at the opera" and "a bib around your neck."

It would be less distracting if you'd edit those "your"s to be "you're" (you are).

[hillwalker]

The meter's a little bit unsteady in places, and there's some needless repetition, but there are some wonderful lines and a clever message buried inside it. Certainly worth a read.

H

[ShadowsCool]

Appreciate that opinion Hillwalker. I found a great site that will help me with my writing.

Regards

Shadows

[tailor STATELY]

I enjoyed your poem very much (syntax aside); the topic being very dear to me.

As hillwalker may have intimated this would be a good poem to spend more time with; polishing up.

This part touched me in a melancholy way:
Your in remembrance now, stuck in some overgrown musty grave,
With an inscription: He came, He went, He gave
How they sneered at you under the dusty desert sky;
Now your just a computer byte brought out for their fond curiosity.Perhaps we should all plan & choose our own epitaphs lest others deride with their epithets.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY