My Dream, To Understand

My stomache rolls,

My thoughts bounce on and off the walls.

I'm not sick,

I'm not content.

 

Some days I fly higher than the sky itself.

Other days I feel like I am plummeting to the ground.

I'm like a comet,

Social pressure is my inertia.

As I am being pushed or pulled

I'm going in the direction of the ground

'till I bust through the rocky crust and into my very own grave.

 

Not a day goes by that I do not wonder why I am here,

or why we're all here.

What's the point really?

We are born, we "live," then we die.

The purpose to life is like an enigma.

I want to ask my maker why, but I can't.

 

I yearn to know,

If this is such an imperfect world,

Why did He make it?

I assume I will never find out,

but I will continue searching.

 

My dream is to understand,

Not simply comprehend,

but deeply and truly understand.

I want to live knowing it like an instict.

 

The world, its people tell me I worry too much.

Then they try to tell me I worry too little.

I say there is no in between,

You either care or you do not.

I care, because to understand is my dream.

 

To understand will help me,

It will let me know how to live,

and I will know why I live.

 

I'm like a flower in a field of tall grass.

I may be hidden but my beauty and purpose remains.

Everyone, the grass, they rise above me.

They are content with where they are,

They think they know where they stand.

They try to teach me their ways,

They want me to be grass.

To lose my beauty and my unknown purpose.

 

I'm not sure of where I stand,

I can't see everyone else.

Life has become like a noise to me.

I want to find that perfect melody,

the sound that will make things good.

I try to hear the melody,

to listen for it with my heart and soul.

Everyone is crashing cymbals, playing too loud.

I cannot hear my melody over them.

My mind screams for a moment of silence,

yet it seems as though they play even louder.

Will I ever find that perfect melody?

 

I walk through buildings,

Endless corridors filled with people.

They are all smiling,

but how many are fake?

How many of those confused souls are struggling

with the very same things as I?

Do they wonder why they are here?

 

These feelings are the truth.

These feelings are my truth.

They leave me wondering if I am truly real.

My dream is to know and feel real,

Am I alone on this?

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