The act of living is being possessed by meaning. 

What are we? 

Flesh and bone and blood evolved over millions of years

Are we animals or something more? 

When we go about our ordinary routines, 

it’s difficult to remember that we really, truly exist

Grab a child by their shoulders

“What is it that you want to do?” 

They’ll look at you with wide eyes

“I want to fly.”

The adults, the ones with everything figured out,

glance towards each other, smiling knowingly.

It’s cute, isn’t it? 

Pure intentions? 

I want to shake them.

“When did you forget that you are also a myriad of wants and needs?” 

But I already know, with some regret

We live our lives chained by rules we made ourselves,

husks of ideals forgotten long ago.

The cruelest truth of the society we live in is that

thought is a luxury too expensive for most. 

How can you think about your purpose when you struggle to survive? 

When your stomach growls from hunger,

or your mouth is parched with thirst? 

When you take the crisp white bill in your hands, 

the sums of money which dullen your eyes so;

Do you think about the fact that we created the world that did this to you?