• for all we do in life
    in turn we face our deaths
    in our graves we sleep
    our memories put to rest

    what's the point in living
    if i know I'll surely die
    I'll never soar above
    I'll never learn to fly

    I learn this useless info
    these stupid, trivial facts
    I'll never use them ever
    from life these things distract

    and when time comes to take me
    I know that I'll be done
    I'll look back upon this
    and ask "wasn't this just fun?"

    what will i be leaving?
    what will I receive?
    what will be my inspiration
    what will be my need?

    who will miss me most of all?
    who will want me more?
    who just want's the things inside
    including my front door?