PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Absent Thinking


What is this life?
What does it mean?
Is there really a purpose at all?

We go around satisfying the needs of our own,
We try to help others but really we only help ourselves,
Over taken by our own selfish desires

I wish it were different.
I wish I was different
But really i'm the same as everyone else.

I don't know what this life is
I don't know what it means
I don't know the purpose. 
ITS ALL STRANGE TO ME

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.