don't come knocking

Fragments of this poem has been sitting in "drafts" for quite a bit..

i won't be here 

so don't come knocking

you'll only find empty spaces

in the place we once called ours

the road ahead 

is filled with uncertainty

yet i'll scurry along

cause i think i've found

that which makes me comes alive

People die without truly living

They hear but never stopped to listen

People care but forget the "showing"

Know, yet never fully comprehend

Shatter i must

this rose tainted view of the world

for i can no longer allow

the world, or you, to define me.

Incidentally, i read this in a book last nite:

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world need is people who come alive"