Someone asked me… Write down a question that you would ask God if you could. And write about it for 5 minutes.
Why did you make humans? What was your purpose?
I’ve heard many theories on the meaning of life, or our purpose I guess. I think for you it’s to Glorify you, help others, and walk in your path… But is that really the meaning? Why did you create us- These beings that can cause so much hurt and hate and evil… But also good. Were you bored? Did you do it simply to see if you could? Were you lonely? Did you need someone to talk to, relate to, to philosophize with? Why did you make this life so hard for humans though? So much of life is struggles and pain and suffering- some ask if it’s even worth it. You could’ve made a perfect earth. But that would probably be boring too. You make us go through pain, anxiety, and suffering so we know how to get through the tough things the next time they happen- so we can grow- so we know what happiness truly means. Are you proud of the race you created? Or do humans just make you cry? Is this what you expected out of us? Out of me? Have I let you down or do I make you smile?
Many people ask
What gives life meaning?
Then put on a mask.
They hide their insecurities
And fake their purities
Absent of priorities.
This life is what you make it
Sometimes you gotta fake it
Just for the sake of it
Or else you’ll just break it.
So take off that mask you little time bomb
Or else you’ll just be dancing to the same song.
When you be yourself
And believe in Destiny
You might just have an epiphany.
Placing words into what you feel
Cause the layers of your core to peel
Whether it’s Anger that distraughts you
or Confusion that betrays you
It’s Anxiety that simmers within
The good angel seems to never win
It’s the Sadness that overwhelms for no reason
and Loneliness seems to be it’s closest cousin
Sometimes all of these things that are unseen
Seep out of the pores altogether, making it Mean
A scene never meant to be seen
The only Context that gives it most Meaning
Is putting the text on paper, so Rich, so Gleaming
It does its part to soothe the Heart
and transforms it intrinsically into Art.
It takes your inner bag of shit
and becomes the Number One Smash Hit.
Or you can keep it to yourself in private
To make your journal utterly vibrant
No way is Right, no way is Wrong
As long as you make it sing like a Song.