To live.
Nothing more is expected of you
Than to move from one day
To the next and exist.
Millions have done it
And it's comfortable to be the same.
Same events, same times, same ideas,
Until it all blends into one gray mass.
Then there are those who rise up
Taking those traits that make us
Separate and above the animals
And move forth to find experiences,
A day to day discovery of the
People, places, things and ideas
That drive our interest and our joy.
Yet in those things, there is also
Danger.
It is in the desire to avoid pain
That a man turns to the bottle
As his true, defining source of relief.
With an eye of an ever alluring
Excitement and enthusiasm,
One can be convinced that
The key to freedom can be found
In the many addictions of a drug.
It is in an attempt to find passion
And appreciation that a man is
Coerced to pleasures of the flesh.
In the attempt to receive those same
Pleasures and be without worry,
Man can be blinded by ambition
And walk a dark road to monetary
Independence.
To live is to chance never
Making a mark to be remembered by,
While being alive is chasing the
Ever changing landscape in pursuit
Of the most enigmatic and euphoric
Four-leaf clover.
It is our chance to take,
And up to those who make
A pit stop in the movement of our lives
To understand and support
Or stay jaded and skulk away.
A dream is often just
A choice not yet made.
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