The worry, the wonder, the shortness of days,
The replacement for purpose, 
The things swept away by 
The worry, the wonder, my slightness of frame,
The replacements for feeling,
The casual lay.
And the worst of the wildlife wears clothes and can pray and
The worry, the wonder, for three meals a day.
Only death unimpeded, not slowing it’s pace,
Brings that petty, old worry and wonder away.

(Source: devdevdevvv, via shit-just-happens-bro)