Is the measure of a persons life what they leave behind
Was he rich, was he poor, was he at least kind
The value of boundless mirth
Measured in compassion
To our death and from our birth
What was my life worth
Everything on earth

Is the measure of a soul in the pile of toys they owned
How often they got stoned
Did they die alone
Or part of the cheering crowd
Boisterous and loud
Or silently in prayer
Is that the way to compare if living life was ever fair
Taken on a dare
Or is it all just air

Was the value of the person measured in all their failure
Live in a penthouse or a trailer
God or Satan as the jailor
Living a life of mortal sin
To not have reached potential of what could have been
Or should have been
The rise and fall of mighty dreams that would have been
Had my failures not been so crappy
Destroying the self to make them happy
To live inside of their acclaim
Shed the shame and play their game
Because all they asked was make a name
Be someone else
Anyone else
Other than the failure I became

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