You’re afraid to die alone,
This reckless worry in which you've become prone.
Your day ends before it has begun.
Minutes blurred, memories gone.
You spend every second waiting for the next,
You were born into a generation in love with drugs and sex.
Your actions live in your head,
A great fantasy that stays in your bed.
You’ll never know what it’s like to live
You only know how to get, not to give.
You’ll never discover anything on your own, you think everything has been done.
Every sentence you form is simply a rerun
On your deathbed you’ll wonder what life was meant to be.
You’ll think, “What have I ever done for me?”
You could have done more, this you know.
But you were so afraid to dive into the great unknown.
There is no need for you to elaborate.
You were rich with ideas,
But it was your actions that made you poor.