Dying to Live (Irrationality)

I’m not sure who started the hunger
For power, for identity.
But starvation runs rampant
through this city
like pesticide.
Meant to kill the problem,
we kill ourselves,
sacrifice part of our species
for the sake of the whole.

Still don’t know who I am
Still don’t know who I want to be
Still don’t know the difference.

I refuse to write a second verse.
Just a carbon copy of the first.
Use different words.
I’ll write a new song and fuse it together
with the other.
Convention is a cop out for
those who can’t think for themselves.

Yet I still don’t know who I am.
Still don’t know who I want to be.
Still I struggle to find the balance
between dying to live and living just ‘cause I breathe.
Somehow rhyming for rhyme’s sake seems obsolete.
Can concrete facts be birthed from irrational
questioning?

Still don’t know who I am.
Still don’t know who I want to be.
STILL don’t know the difference.