Life is fragile
Don’t turn your head
Cause when you look away
Life has already ended
We look around for things to do
Ignoring the things we already have
For the newer shinier things we see ahead
Burying the old dull looking things we no longer want
When we can no longer feel complete
When all we feel is the hunger of something more
The wanting of something that will only sedate the craving
We have truly lost ourselves
Look inside and ask yourself
Do I REALLY need this?
Or do I just want it to be a part of a trend
Am I really going to use it
Will it be useful in ten years
Twenty years down the road
And we find ourselves digging
Finding old treasures we’ve forgotten
Like finding buried treasure
We hoard it for more years
Until we can no longer remember
When we actually got it
We think and think
But nothing comes to mind
We see the now junk items
And see ourselves staring back
We see that we too are broken
Covered in dust and unwanted
Forgotten by those who once cared
And buried by those we hold dear
But still we marvel at the novelty
The memories in which we can remember
The few moments of happiness or sadness
In which is etched into us like stone
When we are able to look at something new
And say that it won’t satisfy us
Only then will we be able to say
We have lived life to the fullest
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 12:39 AM UTC
Life is fragile
Don’t turn your head
Cause when you look away
Life has already ended
We look around for things to do
Ignoring the things we already have
For the newer shinier things we see ahead
Burying the old dull looking things we no longer want
When we can no longer feel complete
When all we feel is the hunger of something more
The wanting of something that will only sedate the craving
We have truly lost ourselves
Look inside and ask yourself
Do I REALLY need this?
Or do I just want it to be a part of a trend
Am I really going to use it
Will it be useful in ten years
Twenty years down the road
And we find ourselves digging
Finding old treasures we’ve forgotten
Like finding buried treasure
We hoard it for more years
Until we can no longer remember
When we actually got it
We think and think
But nothing comes to mind
We see the now junk items
And see ourselves staring back
We see that we too are broken
Covered in dust and unwanted
Forgotten by those who once cared
And buried by those we hold dear
But still we marvel at the novelty
The memories in which we can remember
The few moments of happiness or sadness
In which is etched into us like stone
When we are able to look at something new
And say that it won’t satisfy us
Only then will we be able to say
We have lived life to the fullest
