The Drama of Life

How ironic the world can be at times When it throws man into a quagmire How laughable it is to read the lines Of the tortuous history we wrote ourselves The love, the hate, the warmth and the pain We constantly feed ourselves How pitiable it is to realize It is all but a game The sweet looks of a damsel Coupled with her gentle smell of innocence Makes it all look like a puzzle Until one falls into the pool of nostalgia Only to realize how silly it is to be a youth The stress, the talent, the emotions and the crushes Makes youth nothing but drama To many the world will remain a cryptic place With its secrets impossible to trace Until we learn to stop the fights The fight to make darkness look like light When the light is already in our hearts We shall forever watch ourselves in the play And laugh and wail, again and again As we wonder the extent of our own folly.