Purpose

poem by: E.J. Waling
Written on Apr 19, 2017 

What's the point?
To life
I mean.

Here, we find 
ourselves
 following 
The crowd. 
Doing
as those who came
before. 
Why?

Did they know 
something,
anything,
about anything? 

Mindless 
lemmings
 are we?

Are we building 
something?

We're born,
 we live, 
we move on.
 
What do we do? 
Who do we follow?
Anyone?
 Are they right? 
About what?

Seems like the milieu 
is out of focus.

Time to evolve.

 

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