What’s This Thing We Call.... Poem by A Voice Within

What’s this thing we call
our so called life?
It’s so hard to create one,
but it’s easy enough to be
taken away by a knife.

So many of us fight
so hard to be rich,
since money is so precious.
But when we are dead we can't
take it with us.

Being told we can reach for
anything if we dream it,
but I dreamt about Lexus, and
I still haven't seen it.

Life is a movie filled
with puppets, and
our imagination.
With strings that are invisible,
but our made up scripts are
packed with inspiration.
But most of us are afraid,
like our words have
no determination,
no air in our lungs,
drowning from fear
we have no motivation.

Everyday waking up hearing
about something new,
and it’s always something disturbing
that makes us feel sick with
symptoms of the flu.

Watching the world from a box, and
going by other people’s views.
And we start to judge people on
what we see,
instead of trying to understand what
they have been through.

Nowadays people treating people
with little, or no respect,
but we still have the nerve to get
mad when people look at down on us,
what do you expect?

We take every breath like we
know we are going to take another.
I try to cherish every breath as if
that breath was my last before this
unknown person begins to smother.

So, what is life?
It’s not a world filled with crime,
and absolute hate.
Life is about learning how to live your
own life, and
stop trying to live up to other
people's fate.
It only takes a second for a life
to be taken away,
but remember it takes 9 months
for a mother to create.