Poetry

in the
corner i sit
the room dimly lit
i sit and stall
counting the bricks on the wall
wondering how it was all made
wondering if it is just an illusion waiting to
fade
but i m wasting time
sitting and searching for the next best rhyme
i have many things to do
maybe a chore or two
but i do not wish to do anything
all i want to do is sit and sing
sing of the creation of the earth
discover what life is really worth
every morning and night
i sit in the corner snuggled and tight
and i always wonder
are we all the same, one another? 
or are we a small part, in a big plan of divinity
and will we live for infinity
or is it all a scam
good or bad, should we even give a damn
but all i can do is wait and see
will my life be given back to me?