Homestead on the Corner

One day I’ll be a monument,
One day I’ll be a ghost,
One day I’ll be a name in stone…
A memory at most.

There’s history within these tombs,
A thousand story’s’ starts.
But the leaf-strewn paths between them
Are for the beating hearts.

We carry our deaths with us,
So face them in the day.
Fear not while you’re still walking:
It’s power has no say.