Just some poetry

IV. Our lives

Thinking about life can send you into a spiral.
What does live mean, when we think of aliens why are they always green.
Life is weird, once you think about it you feel weird to. Something you can't put into words. You feel weird, everything seems different.
Why was I born, am I a rose or just a thorn.
The universe is just so big, the stars at nigh seem almost endless.
Our world so tiny and small, not even the universe will hear you as you bawl.
The universe stretches far and wide with other life forms more advanced than ours.
We begin our life's as babies, no memories, no knowledge, no sin. We our told that we are here for a reason, that our lives have meaning.
We strive for things, to make our planet better. But in all reality we are striving for nothing, what we actually do is meaningless. To the universe in a while spectrum we are nothing other than a tiny planet. Who we are is nothing, what we are is full of emptiness, our lives full of nothingness. To to universe what we do is meaningless, our lives easily replaceable and non missable.
The universe is to big to comprehend, to explain, but in it we are to tiny for a thought.