Life

From the moment we are born

We're all in a race.

And the prize that we get at the end?

Its to depart this place 

To where though? I have No idea.

Heaven, if you believe

Or if you've been a bit of a shit

Hell will give you no reprieve.

But if you're like me and don't believe

That there's an almighty god

Then were do we go, what happens to us

When we're under the sod?

Was there really no point to this whole life? 

Is that really the just end?

Do we just simply stop existing

And become a long lost friend?

Life is a terminal disease

Along the course of life there'll be highs,

And some painfully crushing lows.

There'll be things you happily tell the world

And other things that no one knows

About yourself, your feelings,

Or about your inner fears.

About the times you sat alone

and shed your private tears

If you're lucky enough that you were born

Into a life that's known love and caring

Then this seemingly pointless race to the grave

Can be okay, be good, be worth sharing

Just share it with the one you love

The one who truly makes you smile.

The one who when you need a hug,

Is the first number you dial 

This life is short, of that I'm sure

There's no cure for its obvious goal

So spend as much of it as you possibly can

With the one who makes you a whole.

Because sadly, life is a terminal disease

Sub standard

Slightly damaged goods,

Shop soiled.

Not quite as described,

Embroiled 

In a world inside his head

Were nothing's as it seems

Were every waking moment

Feels like a really weird dream

A few cards short of a full deck,

And all of his cards are marked.

Not quite sure what the big plan was

When this life he embarked.

But quite sure that it wasn't this, 

This wasn't his life's goal.

To feel that every day is another

Nail right though his soul

At an age where he should be

Quite content with his lot.

He feels the seams are tearing daily 

And happy he is not

Medication takes off the edge

And most days that is fine.

And if all else fails there's oblivion 

In a bottle or two of wine.

So is this it? Is this the way

That life is supposed to be?

Or is it just that this is who

I am, is this just me?