Do you feel the same as I feel?

Do you, too, see the pain?

Can all our lives be so unlike,

And yet still feel the same?

Do I feel the same envy,

That is written upon your face?

Why do I sense that all our journeys

Are just one, big, lonely race?

Are all our goals for nothing?

Do we live so we can die?

Is all the happiness we feel,

One complicated lie?