Sailing down the waves of a sea called Death,
Growing ever colder as I take my last breaths.
Time moves slowly, I now mosey.
Never hurrying, always worrying;
Is life worth dying for?
I wash up on the shores of a sky called Life,
With endless bounds.
A never-ending story,
Always seeking glory,
Never truly understanding,
The beauty of each day.
Asking one question,
With many different answers;
Why do I exist?
"Why must you persist?
What will you gain by discovering
Your fate?
Your purpose?
The sole reason for your existence?
Are you deaf and blind?
Isn't it obvious?
Or do you see confirmation
From someone more reputable?
What's in a name?"
Well, letters of course!
"Yes, but what's in a name?"
A name is who you are.
"Well, who are you?
So and so blah blah, right?
What makes you so and so blah blah?
What do you want in life?
Ah, yes, the answer to your question.
Why do you exist?
To break the mould that is society:
Conformity.
To ask a different question;
Why shouldn't I exist?"
YOU ARE READING
Poetry: Good, Bad, And Really Bad
PoetryA collection of all of my poetry. I will add some every now and again, so don't freak out.
