I try my hardest
and I do my
best.
I constantly try again and again
to do what is right, to help
others out
and keep a clean conscience
without sin.
Though sometimes I wonder
whether these attempts
to be the best I can be
will make me content.
Whether the tries I make
to find if someone will love me;
if all the pain I take
and absorb inside me,
will it ever change me
and my soul for the better?
Can all this work make me
happy and people will then say I
mattered?
Will all of this ever
make it so that when I die
that people will remember me
and when they think of me they'll
sigh
because I tried my hardest, did
my best
and was a moral man?
In a hundred years from now
will anyone even give a damn?
I tend to ponder
the purpose of life
and I can't seem
to get doubt out of my mind,
for if there is no afterlife
only our memories will live on.
Just think about the billions
of men we've just forgotten;
it's as if they had never
existed,
never walked the plains of this
land
and now I'm haunted with the
thought
that I'll leave nothing behind
but sand.
Now every time I do something
good.
whenever my spirit becomes
happier
I always seem to be brought back
down
with the question of Will it
ever really matter?