Writing about life is
Like writing about love
There is no truth
No sign from above

It’s all just a game
Or so it seems
Putting things together
Unable to believe

Things happen and
People move forward
Leaving behind memories
Of peace and discord

There comes a time
A bump in the road
Where everything seems
Like it’s about to blow

And we gather our strength
And make it through
Allowing the moment
To redefine our world view

They say things happen
For a reason or so it seems
I think it’s just perception
Altering the reality

The new normal
Eccentric terminology
For a phenomenon
That feels like a dream

Feeling a sort of unrest
Something boiling inside
The mind playing tricks
Got nowhere to hide

The thought is fleeting
But it revels in pandemonium
When it all comes to a close
Will it be as grim as living?