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Subjected to change. IT, being life, will always be the same. When great dies down, the blossom is no longer there. IT no longer matters in a sense of being. So I ask myself why am I here. Telling myself it could be worse. Subjected to expectations. HE, being love, will always be judged on standard. What is good now was great then, but change came and standard remain the same. But for IT, HE didn't. So as good dies so does the hope of greater. And again I ask myself why am I still here, yet I stay still telling myself it could be worse. Subjected to reality. SHE, being the fantasy, will always fight for existence. Questioned by IT, SHE tries to hold on to every HE created in her abundance. Complex moments spins IT around, throwing SHE out the picture, making IT harder for HE to be. Stuck and confused I ask myself why am I here, telling myself it could be worse