What is life?
It’s miserable like Dostoevsky: it’s hell,
A world of trials where shadows dwell.
A full of challenges, in Socrates: it’s a test,
To seek the truth and give your best.
Maybe it’s the way we think of it,
A positive or negative, bit by bit.
In Aristotle, it’s the mind,
Where truths and thoughts unwind.
Ways to become strong, in Nietzsche: it’s power.
To rise above in every hour.
Grief and sadness, like Freud: it’s death,
A final sigh, a fading breath.
Maybe it is what we understand, as we live,
Like everyday living, learning to give.
In Marx, it’s the idea we hold,
A dream for change, both young and old.
Or it’s the passion and eagerness,
Like Picasso: it’s art, it's bold finesse.
If you’re optimistic, like Gandhi, it’s love,
A gentle light from up above.
Now there’s a lot of jealousy,
The suffering of Schopenhauer’s plea.
Or it’s where everyone wants to be on top,
Bertrand Russell, a competition that won’t stop.
Most beautiful, by Steve Jobs: it’s faith.
A steady hand, a patient wraith.
As well as Einstein: it’s knowledge we crave,
To solve the mysteries, bold and brave.
Continue living, as Stephen Hawking, hope.
The strength to climb life’s steepest *****.
To restart everything like Kafka, a beginning,
A quiet world forever spinning.
No matter what life is, the only matter,
Is that you live through joy and shatter?
But still, love to give and lift,
For life itself is the greatest gift.
#found my meaning