Is that all that I can be?
Is that whats left, for me today,
Just torchured silent dreams?
Can there be change, in any way-
Can I erase the pain?
Is there escape, of any kind-
Am I really that insane?
Is there a purpose- to this life,
A reason for it all?
And if there is, when will I know,
Oh surly when I fall.
It's then and only on that day,
I'll understand the pain.
The meaning, reasons for the thoughts,
That make this life insane.
By: Sara Jacobson
