How do we live,
Without expectations,
Only to drift,
No revelations.
How do we lie,
Just to ourselves,
So we don’t find,
Our own special wealth.
How do we ****,
All of our dreams,
We know our will,
We know we’re kings.
How are we loud,
But then so silent,
Fear makes no sound,
But it’s so violent.
How are we kind,
Just to give help,
But never will find,
The love in ourselves?
How are we lonely,
But have so many friends,
When we are the only,
Ones to feel bent?
How are we alive,
Just to feel dead,
Only to whine,
Filled with regret?
How do we speak,
Words of no depth,
But then when we leave,
Meaning gets fed?
How do we fly,
Just to come down,
Never to pry,
And never be found?
How does this happen?
