In class on Tuesday, we discussed what it means to be alive. I was inspirede to write this poem.
Life. What is life? This endless monotony that we call living. Can one live without ever being truly alive? Is life the act of living? Or is life acting while alive?vOne who goes about their days in an unfeeling haze is physically living, but are they alive? Life is not defined by a pulse or a heartbeat. Rather, life is defined by the lives you touch, the chances you take, and the love you make. Living each day just to live is like waiting to die. Living every day as a lie leaves one dying inside. Only in living each day to the fullest can one truly be ALIVE!
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