THE EXISTENTIAL SKELETON (excerpt)
Nobody made me a tombstone;
Nobody made me a tombstone;
I guess that implies no one cares.
If nobody went to the trouble,
Does it mean I never was there?
How can I know I was living
If I can’t be sure that I died?
Does life after death even happen?
Cause I feel so empty inside.
I don’t know who I was,
So how can I know who to be?
My meaning in life is meaningless
Did anyone even love me?
Nobody made me a tombstone.
Wasn’t I somebody’s heir?
A nothing in death and a nothing in life;
I can’t help but feel it’s unfair.
When I left one world for another,
Did anyone shed a sad tear?
Purpose is purposeless; I’m just a pawn
In some cruel god’s game, I fear.
Fate, it eludes me
For no grave includes me.
If I ever lived—then why?
What might my epitaph
Now possibly read?
"He was some unremarkable guy."
No comments:
Post a Comment