What is life?
Is there something more to it
than merely going through it.
Sitting and waiting and passing
Time.24hours,1440minutes,86400seconds.
Is there something more to life?
Watching cars go by
one by one, I wonder,
will I see this car again
tomorrow? Or maybe some time soon?
This is but the fragility of life,
We never know what might happen next.
Things come and go,
nothing lasts forever..
Everything dies, that we know.
So all the friendships and relations that we made,
but for what purpose do we put in such efforts
if everything is for naught.
What can one do to have a significant impact
on himself, on society, on the world?
What can any one person do
to change the world?
One is insignificant, what's a dropp of water to the ocean?
What's a snowflake compared to the rest of the falling snow?
Does one really matter?
Some say everything had to start
somewhere, with one.
But now isn't the case.
There's a multitude of ones present,
this is life, these are lives.
So what's the scenario now?
Is there something more to life than death,
if all we lived for is a mere process
with the final outcome of death.
Perhaps there's something more,
after life? perhaps after death.
perhaps.. just perhaps.
As the cars flash pass
leaving streaks of light trailing behind,
and the setting of sun paints a peculiarly interesting background.
Treasure this moment
was all I could think of.
Perhaps that's the best way to live life.
Daryl, this is some question you're asking here... I like that, poems that ask questions, especially questions like this. Maybe we already know the answer to questions like this and we hide it from ourselves. Maybe. Frank
well penned.... defined life as your own but seems to be for all......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
yes.. I certainly think so.. maybe sometimes do we hide it from ourselves, as if in a state of self-delusion, hoping that not knowing how to answer is perhaps the way out of the situation. just maybe..