SANE

 

The life outside not mine or yours.

Whomever seeks, shall have.

A million roads are still unknown.

Tomorrow’s warmth, not had.

 

 

Is there a purpose? Every step?

A game our soul must play?

A fun and fruitless journey, where?

To death, our time, our day?

 

 

We live, we love, we smile, and cry.

Tomorrow, more the same.

Asking bones beneath her skin.

Will hope, survive the pain?