Give me reason to live


In living I’m lying but in dying there’s no trying,
As if I could find something more satisfying,
I try to find more pain

It is the pain of the lost soul,
The restless ghost of a conscience that makes me whole

It whispers to me when I’m sinning,
A vesper to the end of my worthless existence

My pain is that of the selfish soul,
One who never had to try,
And ever had to cry

I was never poor,
My family is intact,
They, in fact, love more than I will ever know

I am so lucky to be where I am,
that, every passing minute,
I waste the time of who I am

I can never deserve what is given me,
and I will never live up to what I expect of me

If I am so gifted, so highly lifted,
I should have moved mountains by now

I should have fed the hungry,
Clothed the poor,
Been kind to many
And been a friend to more

Instead I smash, raze, pillage, plunder, and trash,
All that own, all that have, all that I have inherited

I make as if I don’t care,
And I assure you actions do not compare,
To the ridiculous rhetoric
Of an intellectual swallowed by despair

So I cry, I cry for my failed existence,
My inability to make progress with persistence

And how can I cry when so many die,
In nameless nations across the globe!

I must stop whining,
For I hear the crow’s cawing,

Another died as I sat here sighing

 
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