Lost

Lost, no, not that stupid excuse for a TV series!

Lost is a state or phase I suppose; something I explore by putting lines to prose

We come into the world lost, baring the debts of what will be our upbringing’s cost

Spend lifetimes searching for purpose – like ancient warriors insearch of Argos

Some, the lucky, find it early, others eventually, the unfortunate, never

Once you do, it becomes your soul to the world, teather

But my friend how can you tell when you’re done being lost?

Is there sign like the first falling snowflake of an approaching winter’s frost?

Well, I guess there is no way to tell

Does life find you, or do you find life? Seek heaven and finding at the blade of a knife.

Sometimes I think: do I need to find myself, can’t I stay lost?

The more I find me, the less I like what the world comes to be

I want to go back to the days of a father’s love

Instead of just telling myself he is watching me..somewhere above

Been lost and found, I want to be lost again

To the world that has found me; I have nothing but disdain

Just like that said TV series.