Dear Sophie,

Where does my soul touch my body? When I’m hurt why do I cry?

What does it mean to be human? Do we even catch God’s eye?

Our time on earth is short; we’re born, we live, we die.

We’re given moments on the stage before we say goodbye.

Are we merely stardust, gazing out into the sky,

Or puppets stitched together, created only to comply?

Does Heaven lie beyond the pale blue sky?

Is Hell escapable, should I dare to even try?

Answers to these questions could no sum of money buy,

I’ll ponder till my death, and God can tell me why.