deepundergroundpoetry.com
WHAT'S LEFT BEHIND
Stan at the station waits.
An indelible legacy remains.
Many millions mourn.
Remembered in print,
splashed on the silver screen.
A force for good to Valhalla flies.
What of Cousin Joey?
On a bench nearby.
Not yet fifty years achieved.
This morn Into pick up truck climbed.
Through eternal portal passed.
More finite the group
of loved ones to mourn.
Yet equally bereft.
Whose legacy be remembered most?
Whose ripple extends as far?
In someone’s eyes both super heroes.
Remembered for good deeds.
None is superior.
All ride first class.
When the caravan to the stars arrives.
An indelible legacy remains.
Many millions mourn.
Remembered in print,
splashed on the silver screen.
A force for good to Valhalla flies.
What of Cousin Joey?
On a bench nearby.
Not yet fifty years achieved.
This morn Into pick up truck climbed.
Through eternal portal passed.
More finite the group
of loved ones to mourn.
Yet equally bereft.
Whose legacy be remembered most?
Whose ripple extends as far?
In someone’s eyes both super heroes.
Remembered for good deeds.
None is superior.
All ride first class.
When the caravan to the stars arrives.
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