Tell me what does it all mean?
Life, death, and in-between?
If one finds love, have they won?
Or has it, rather, just begun?
What is love? What is its worth?
How in hell does it show mirth?
How can you measure what is naught?
How can you fight what can’t be fought?
These questions ring forth and back,
Discover they are far off track,
Disguise themselves as thoughts so fey,
And like a feather, floats away.
A boy is left inside his mind,
A distant fight with words unkind,
He’s taught his thoughts to rescind
He’s a feather in the passing wind.