feeling to much sorrow,

That can make us hollow.

Doesn’t make us human.

To much pride,

That makes you take life,

With to much stride.

Doesn’t make you human.

But if you blend the two,

And make it into you,

Then...

That makes you,

The most human of all.

We are fickle things…

Why were we given emotions?

If half of it is pain.

Even if you’re on top of the world,

You can still be afraid of heights.

Standing in a corridor
Is a young boy,
Looking into infinity

Left,
Then
  Right.

Doors along the corridor
As if pleading to be opened,
The boy approaches.

As he grabs for a handle,
He stops.
And decides not to open it.

He continues to walk
Till he reaches another door,
This time he opens it.

But as he walks through
There is just another endless corridor,
However now he seems to have grown.

Standing in a corridor
Is a young man,
Looking into infinity.