Buzz
A life without sparks would be life lived the same
Devoid of a prick we know nothing of pain
And yet, just there, on the edge of my thumb
A slight buzz reminds me to not remain numb
For without excitement there is no real life
A life without meaning; a world without strife
To truly know triumph, a shock must come first
You need to endure an electrical burst
A world of inertia, where we remain static
Is dreary and dull, and under-dramatic
I loathe all those people who never get up
They laze through their days, until the days stop
They never know why they lived out their time
They never did see the heights they could climb
And so I live life with risks, all because
What purpose is life, without one little buzz?
