Why do the things that we do
what makes us hide behind the masks,
we take a lifetime to create,
only to reach an epiphany past the point of no return
why do we try so hard
to please people that mean nothing,
yet take for granted all those souls
whose love was sowed into this gumbo life,
only to reap regret.
why have we presupposed that living can wait;
why can't we tell the one's we love
that our spirits are brought to life by their radiance
if tomorrow never came, would we be satisfied with today?