I feel like a ****** doo trying to figure out tomorrow ,
I should have known, living like I owned this world,
Just to find out this life is borrowed,

A game of jeaopardy
what your worth's worth? and whats your wager?
Some say they never asked to be put here?
So why  they up come out of labor?

Questions marks
and questionable thoughts...

Like  if  that past  is behind why does it often revisit?
Like exes who hit the exit just to reenter like they never existed?

Life likes to play and we part of the game..

Before my past passes away,  
I'll probably die the day before tomorrow come,
everyday im indulged in something new from something old
I guess his story a history  to learn from,

Life...

Shoes tied just in case I trip,
and if so Ill file a case judge it tried to throw me off a cliff,
I hope life get a life sentence  for the scantrons its put me through,
Just to test of how much of it I can hang on too,

The unknowns to make known..

I feel like a problem solver  with handful of all the questions
that's ironically still starving,
creating my own answers,
We  are artist to  sculpt  our own living
I'll use my paint brush to the carving.

-Shahrukh Zamir