What is this life we claim as life well lived?
What makes a well life successfully lived?
Is there a motivation tool we all posses?
Is there something that we all seem to carry on for?
The reasons behind these questions are above my knowledge,
If I was lying, the answers would follow,
But what deep thoughts us humans can have,
Have you ever pondered about that?
I have, I am..
I've became scared,
As to how it will all end,
How everything will become so sudden,
We might see each other,
But are we really looking at are true others?
Is there more to it than just faces?
I was told once to live and lie,
Never was I told to sit and die,
That's all imagination is.
To believe and conceive,
To replenish and astonish,
To dress and impress,
We do it all for who though?
The ones who care not to care about you,
The ones who believe to not believe in you,
They all seem to fight rigorously to not be with you,
To not see what you see,
And act as there own person,
But in the end..
We are who we are, who we use to be, and what we will be,
Because of each other.
I'm only like this because of you,
And all the others who have helped you,
No one can say they have not been nurture raised.
Pathological lying has overcome this society,
Into thinking what may or may not be true.
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