A person lives as long as time itself
Provided his effect is there to see
But lacking progeny he must rely
On others' often spotty memory
Ideas are immortal, living on
To give another generation pause
But often they fade out in ages hence
And leave no trace to show it ever was
When gone am I, I leave nothing behind
Not statement writ nor even legs of stone
While futile Ozymandias still lives
No one will ever know me when I'm gone
Today I am a candle burning low
Tomorrow, out, with nothing else to show
