Life is a meaningless jog
Through space and time.
It hardly matters
Who lives or dies.
But sometimes,
Sometimes there's a cat
That I wish to scratch,
Sometimes an afternoon
Is spent in good company
And sometimes
I crave a beer, and so I have one,
or two,
Or three.
There's that movie I wish to yet see,
And a game I have to finish.
A shelfful of books I have to read.
And whilst none of it
Has any real purpose—
Divine or grand—
It is fun to breathe,
So I keep going.
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