Searching for Meaning

This is me or a part of me
Or is it me at all? I made this song but is it wrong?
How do I create at all when great is hard to solve?
I ask myself these questions daily like
Who am I? How do I create and then define?
The work inside my mind?
Is art too hard to find?
I lay awake and think from 9-5 then 5-9
The time it laps my mind
Relapse then climb the hill, I’m blind, I might just find the part of life I write
Dear me
I hope you’re doing alright
I’m writing to you fed up with the fear of a life
Where creative is a fable and I’m thinking I might
Just go a little crazy feeling hazy in this world I’m still debating
What is art?
If it’s amazing does it mean it’s worth creating?
If it’s changing does it mean it’s not the painting that I made it
What is art?
If it’s a craving how do I supply the blazing
Hunger in my gut that isn’t fading?
Now I’m draining, contemplating
What’s remaining? Conversating with myself until I’m hating
Every ounce of what’s created
Quit complaining start embracing
What is art?
What’s the meaning? Does it matter?
Does it need to? Does it feed you?
Would you rather just believe you made it
Just to show the people you created something worth it?
More like worthless
Is it perfect? Can’t determine when your earnest or you're wordless...
I’m searching for meaning
Hardly ever feeling that I’ll ever find
But I try
Try, try, and try
I’m searching
Dear me
I’m back again
I’m writing like I haven’t been
Up at night, maybe twice I saw a light
It went as I grabbed it tight
I held it dearly it flew across the ceiling
I saw it clearly it’s gone it merely
Disappeared into the dark
It left no chance to start
But maybe I’ll see it tomorrow
Or the night after
Or maybe it’s gone for good, a light disaster
I hear the laughter they chatter and scatter
And now I’m left inside my mind
Waiting the time to find an idea to create
And maybe one day I’ll finally be great