When

  We push and we pull, we bow and we scrape. 

We demand and expect, with no thought of the effect. 

  We rush and we scurry, impatient to the end. 

We scram and we hurry, so cool, we pretend. 

Up and down like a yoyo, we think that it all has no end. 

  We only care about that little me. 

That selfishly, conceited, individual me. 

  When will it end, 

when will we seek to transcend. 

And finally make some big, and well overdue amends. 

  We've no peace or contentment, just hate and resentment. 

  We've divided the world into imaginary compartments. 

It feels safe and controlled and it's shaped by our judgements. 

  But if we were going to just drop off tomorrow, would any of this matter and are we just adding to the sorrow? 

  What's it all mean? What's the meaning of life? 

Why are we creating so much turmoil and strife. 

  Why are we creating so much bitterness? ... It's rife. 

I don't understand, what is the meaning of life?

  It's such a big question, that I have avoided it, till now. 

But now there's no going on, till I find the why and the how. 

  Just maybe it's as simple, as giving attention to this now?