Life
"Why I am here?"
The question I always fear
Because it comes from a place so deep
And to depts I seem to fall too easily like from a mountan far to steep.
"Why I am here?"
When about this world there isn't much dear.
Fighting something every day,
Trying to build a future like a sculpture out of clay,
Giving something so ordinary a meaning
But at the same time I know twoards nothing I'm leaning.
We all live our lives and then we die.
Nothing more to it, any other answer to why I am here is a lie.
Existance has no deeper meaning at all
But what has is the rabbit hole in our minds into which we have a tendency to fall
And everything is much more simple than we think, it's far more "less"
So we live our best lives until we can, until to weaknes we regress.
Clown
He jumped up and down.
Silly things did the clown.
Came to an end, the childrens laughter
For what happened after
The clown fell down and broke his neck.
The whole show became a complete wreck.
Children screamed as the clouds turned dark,
Runing in panic took over the whole park.
But what they didn't know was-
The clown was still alive,
Watching them in horror dropping their jaws.
Paralyzed, he hoped for help to arrive.
Lifeless body, fearful face
For what happened, himself he didn't brace.
So the clown in the grass laid
And thought how for people's happines he paid.