Searching for a life sublime,
lost within a world of crime,
few that reap though many sow,
few that give though many stow.
Floating in the sea of souls,
drowning in unfinished goals,
few that smile though many talk,
few that stand though many walk.
Sitting in a field of life,
blown by winds of pain and strife,
few that see though many watch,
few that grasp though many clutch.
Laying in a bed of hope,
rest beyond the masses’ scope,
few that dream though many try,
few that feel though many cry.