Life, as it is

They ask, how's life

Well, a lot of which is different

But the human tendency of concern is... Rather stranger than fiction

So one says so nowadays, life is good 

Things are different,

the feeling of one's self-responsibility and self regret

Drown one in the well of sorrow

Not standing out easily, catching up to the trails which are rather long and will be ever increasing,

make it tough to win either way, making one feel like life is a race

winning it should not matter, but it does

making one shut himself from one and all, curling up, as the world caves in on the soul

breathing, it sometimes ends up as a liability

tense feet, staggering walk, falling down not breathing

it all ends up making one feel as if drowning in the pool silently must be easier

but the fear of not seeing the eyes of those whom one sees, the fear of not being able to do it all again

the fear of not having the chance, it all makes one change

So, to avoid the arising concern from the one's one sees, one breathes in deep,

and says, "life is good"