He died many years after he was born.
He left us like the moon does slightly before
He has gone to a place we all shall go,
to some he was a friend and to others a foe.
He is now a member of a different race,
a race we only see in dreams and know nothing of their face.
The soil he left empty will soon have seeds to grow.
The circle of life continues,as some go and some come like the snow
sad really. Nothing is indispensable. People remember them for a few days/months/years and then everyone gets busy carrying their own cross and people forget them. Life feels cruel sometimes. Your poem is simple, straightforward and saddening in a alas! way.