Vanity

by Tommy LoMaglio

Somebody once said there's nothing new here
Under the sun its all the same
No one can find anything of worth here
If we're all just playing a pointless game

Our works and toils earn us nothing more than worthless vanities
We quest for crowns of kings, search for finer things
But find tarnish and rust
Silver and gold we can't ever hold, They're chasings after the wind
To taste all that is sweet becomes our only feat
But on our tongues is only dust.