Something

Why the hell are we in this place?
Do you not see with your eyes the glory of those missed?
Do you not hear with your ears the sweet melodies of those unheard?
Do you not paint with your very hands what's sought after by many but lost by few?
Why is all that you create for nothing?

Don't dispel disbelief but paint it.
Don't disregard the negativity but write it.
Don't disturb the short sightedness of others but embrace it.
Don't discomfort those who need comfort but become satisfied with your yield.
For when the days that are numbered come to a close, you'll be remembered as one who did something.