Who is he?

Life feels like a movie sometimes,

Like as if you're living life through the eyes of an observer. 

Eyes that cause you to think. 

As if everything is just temporary, no gain, no going back. 

We all are temporary that’s the thing,

We live life the way we do because we know it’ll end. 

It’s the realization that it will be over that causes us to be spontaneous. 

For us to not be perfect, to change and live. 

But what is the point of life if you don’t take half the chances you get? 

Is it a life if you’re too scared to live it? 

But if we don’t take the chances we can’t experience the moments. 

If we constantly flee we can never stay, 

But we wouldn’t be human if we stayed. 

Would we? 

It’ll be grim if we live each day of life through the eyes 

Of someone who stopped feeling so long ago.

Because now, each moment he experiences is lost between the age and stress of time. 

For everything he's lived for and done is just words on a blank piece of paper. 
A piece of paper worn with time and not love, for he just lived.

He never felt. 

And that man the one that you now live through, 

He died many years ago. 

Not at peace, not content. 

But someone so desperate for more, he could never find what he lost.