“What is life?” Maybe it’s just a word with no meaning, Or just a piece of a human being, Or just a fragment of a story. Maybe life hurts the most, It shows us who stays and who goes. It teaches us to love and care, But it never teaches us what to do when the ones we love walk away. Life is built on silent goodbyes, And the days that feel too heavy, On the moments we swallow alone, And the memories that linger too long. It’s the laughter that fades too quickly, And the homes we never built. It’s love that fades away, It’s the fights we learned to hide every day. Or maybe life is just a game, Teaching you how to stay. Testing you every day, Seeing if it’s worth the pain, If you’ll break or stay the same. If you’ll rise after you fall, Or let the silence take it all. And maybe life has no clear role, No final truth, no perfect goal. Maybe it’s just learning to breathe With a heart that’s learned to grieve. So what is life? Maybe it’s this— Surviving the loss, And choosing to exist.