Mothers are anxious, fathers worried
Sons and daughters are in the rat race
Authors and poets keep writing
Artists paint, musicians strum
Everyone is searching
Searching for something
Mostly not knowing for what
They may think it is love
They may think it is money
They may think it is power
They may think it is fame
They may think any damn thing
But in the end
After getting that damn thing
They are just as miserable.
Know Thyself 