Humans Humans, Obsessed With finding success Needing a purpose To prove or impress Needing to be special To feel no more less To find inner peace Or outer, I guess. Humans, Content With letters unsent And feelings unshared And moments not spent Living in darkness So much they pay rent Forgetting the good stuff And all that it meant Humans, At ease To weep as they please To wallow in sadness It releases, it frees And all of the people Who have the same needs Forgotten in moments Where happiness leaves Humans, Look around You're not deep or profound You're not complex or mysterious You all hear the same sounds Stop taking solace in solitary You all stand on the ground Stop looking for belonging You are humans, therefore you are found.
