They ask me why I do it all.
Why I'm tripping but are yet to fall.
They ask me why when bad happens I cry for so long,
when that nice tune on the radio starts blasting and I always sing along.

Why my currency had such an urgency,
but I use it only  for a random emergency.
Why I can't keep my eyes from all the pretty girls that come around,
I'm failing to look away from their curves, or at least stare to the ground.
Why I'm smiling to wide and long when at times I'm dying inside,
carrying so many pains, trying so much to hide.

They tell me I should hope for the future yet I can't see a pathway to it.
I fear mostly of the things not likely to come, but I failed to keep an eye on it, I never really saw it.

Is it a human nature of a being not to sure of his identity of self,
do I cut down trees to build fences to hide my wealth.

I'm just a man who maybe cries more than most,
and I don't really know my position but I'm still playing this post.

I'm human after all.
I bleed and fear, and stack my desires to be so tall .