Improv Post Two Week One

This is an improv off of the piece "Ozmandias" by Percy Shelley. This sonnet struck me because of the line: "But when you die nothing beside remains." This is very profound to me: when you die, nothing but remains is what remains. I wanted to try and take another spin on this idea, all the while keeping in sonnet form with iambic pentameter and fourteen lines and the rhyme scheme. I'm not sure how it worked but here it is:

You might make money, see
when you die nothing besides your body remains.
And then your family won't laugh at what's funny,
but only expect what Porsche they'll gain.
I met a man in stripes by the bank, where
he told me "give it all up," since he lost.
I watched the street light blink their colors and there
instead flash rings my mother owns, each tossed
aside gifts from stepfather, who loves young her,
while he's cancered and sixty, buys mansions here.
The old man disappears and in a spur,
I throw my pocket coins into some fear
and walk back, opposite of where I came
never go back- material in shame.