Things They Don't Teach You in Highschool

Can you dream a dream?

Or am I just dreaming?

Fragments of memories scatter through my mind,

as I frantically try to piece them back together.

Am I wasting time?

Or is time wasting me?

Hanging on to every piece of the past,

I cannot seem to bear with myself.

Do I anger my imagination?

Or does my imagination anger me?

Every question that is thrown at me,

is now answered without a single ounce of creativity.

Is my happiness gone?

Or have I just given up?

I can't seem to figure out my purpose anymore,

does that mean I am not significant in this life?