Colors

This Is the World That We Live In

Sometimes the world falls to shambles,

The world that we all know.

Routine.

Day after day it's the same old thing.

We rush around as if the things we do... matter.

But sometimes, and it is quite common,

We can't seem to find the motivation.

Sometimes it's like I can't breathe, or don't want to.

Things just happen; and it's always the same.

I don't want to do this anymore.

It's when i stop to take the time to notice,


That this isn't what I want.

Or is it?

I often find myself debating whether or not I'm happy with my life.

I have attempted suicide once in my life.

I have spent countless moments, hours, days, months,

Contemplating it.

Thoughts begin to proceed to action,

I become more and more dependent upon these medications.

But I guess it's true, what they say,

The most unbearable thing you will find in this world,

Is that nothing is unbearable.

And what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

I see truth in this.

So I guess what I am trying to say is that...

I am both happy and sad,

And I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

I don't know what it is that I want,

But I know enough to see that...

Whatever it is, I want to be with you.

----(*)----

I came up with a riddle today. Maybe it's silly but see if you can get this:

I am believed to be a doorway of sorts,
I vary in color,
But range little in size.
There are many of me,
And we exchange contact every day.
(Sadness turns me on.)
What am I?