Maybe

The universe endures in attempts to make me fall to my knees. Why is life so inevitably difficult? It feels as if I'm undoubtedly mistreated for either completely absurd reasons or for no reason at all. Dear Universe, why do you love to watch me fall? To teach me a lesson? There's a moon waning crescent with your name on it, but we seek to call it ours.
Dear Universe, I question those with hatred and why they're here. I feel they're empty souls with purpose to push me off an edge. I fight against it, but they're so determined to win. I'm not in life to play a game or win a contest. So why does it always feel like we're always racing to finish first place? To prove who wrong? They don't know me, but they act like they do. Life puts a twist to my stomach and a clogging valve to the love of my heart. Who do I ask for help? Who is really real?
Some are amused by my life and find it funny, but I rise above and see it sunny. Why are we so twisted and enlightened to dark? I love the idea of angels and declaring Hark, because then I feel I'm not alone.
Somehow, it's in my mind that I'm not alone, but it's in my heart. These empty souls know that I'm faulty from the start. I didn't think they store in able to gain, because I want to believe so much we're not all in vain.
It makes me question so repeatedly as to why we're so cruel, and why people put us up on pedestals. I see death so much differently, a place with no contests, a place where I'm free. But life is a different story, with manmade ideas that seem to fit. Who would ever admit that we ourselves are wrong? That this doesn't belong? A puzzle piece that doesn't quite string along? No one. Would you just say, are you done? Undoubtedly, undoubtedly so.
Why can't we smile and remain without? Maybe being material-less fills us up with doubt. I want to find those who sprout from their roots and see a life without judgement...just without.
People see being without in a negative way, but I see it as weightless days and days. Why does happiness never stay? My guess is because we feel that if we're without, we'll melt from our moulded clay. Being without is stress free, a tolerance of you and me. Nobody else will see so.
I try so hard to be optimistic and happy, but these people drag me down. I want so badly to run away, but what do I prove if I appoint them their crown? Where does it pay off to be so happy with those who hate? Content with those who mistreat? Accepting with those who are cruel? Is it fate? To bring justice to the soles of our feet? To win the duel? To say I'm worthless would you dare, but that's the way it is because life's not fair.
Maybe some say life's a game, but I say it's a maze. We cut through bushes at times with all of the craze. I say that's taking the easy way out, because we're all entitled to harsh and cruel encounters. But the more we just keep walking to seek, we'll find answers in the end. Right now it's dark and windy, and bare branches shiver within their freezing vital veins. At twice and two, I know not what to do. I feel I'm alone in keeping my morals true. As an adolescent, I'm drama prone, and maybe since I sit alone discreetly, I feel alone completely.
Maybe the sun will rise above the clouds soon, maybe to the cruelties of adolescence I'm doomed. Searching, seeking to see,
Maybe, maybe, maybe