Somewhere between living and existing, We forget ourselves.
Somewhere between beathing and surviving,
We forget what out passions are.
Somewhere between socialising and smiling,
We forget what makes us laugh.
Somewhere between being cautious and walking,
We forget what baring our soul means.
Somewhere between being hurt and holding on to the grudges,
We forget to heal.
Its not about the people
Its not about the actions
Somewhere between keeping a count of it all,
We forget our life is ultimately only about us.