Days tick by
As I wonder why
I was placed
Upon this coil
Is there a reason
Something I missed
Or is it random
For which we toil
Where is the point
We understand
Or is there none
Wither and spoil
Sparing and sharing
Passing the time
Ticking, wasting
On this endless coil
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 
What is our purpose?!?!
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I think it changes throughout the years, and eventually we become what we are meant to be… hopefully.
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Hmmm. Food for thought.
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