What is life if you’re killing time?
Wandering aimlessly, no reason or rhyme.
You accomplish nothing, touching no one,
And when you look back, you see nothing is done.
You become like a breeze, grabbing and losing things
Watching from the outside the stories of kings.
The sun rises and sets, but time has no meaning
No stories of grandeur, only of cleaning
Risks left behind, dreams never dreamed
Your potential of life, nothing what it seemed