What do we leave behind?
A question not often asked in this modern daily grind
Is now the best time to be a creator, or the worst?
It feels like a race to reach a massive fanbase first

We move with urgency to obtain this human currency
Somehow we all converge in our attempts at divergency
In this digital landscape, we all bleed together
Making throw-away content that will live forever

We scarcely acknowledge the power of a post
It is a fixture in an eternally existent web at most
And a transfer of ideas between humans at least
It is a record of ourselves even after we’re deceased

But despite these networks’ permanence, we only consider
Their effects during our lives, and what they can deliver
In terms of finances and fame, as if that’s all we stand to gain
But don’t we artists hope to leave something to our name?

Of course it’s a struggle to keep the lights on
And we want someone to listen whenever the mic’s on
But we must remember this single solemn fact
An artist mustn’t be alive to achieve an impact

So as we chase fame and fortune, and we go berserk
Let’s acknowledge true success is simply making good work
If I leave behind accessible art, it will be found
Whether I’m still in the flesh, or buried in the ground

Perhaps the words I put into the intangible cloud
Will one day touch a person or be read to a crowd
And if the internet collapses, and we’re left without our screens
Perhaps my books and written words will at last be seen

We shape this world and society in subtle ways
A piece of art just might exist for infinite days
Assuming humankind saves the Earth or escapes it
And the universe doesn’t one day become uncreated

Then what we make today could bring about laughs and tears
In a decade or a century or a billion years
So simply make good art before you reach your grave
And it will one day be discovered, like paintings in a cave