How does reality feel?

How does it feel,
This things we call life;
Where does it end;
Or begin?
Is this reality,
Or just a dream?
Is this forever,
Or just how it seems?
Will I grow old,
Live life to the full;
Fly like a bird,
Or rage like a bull?
Can I just hope
That things will be good;
Or must I prepare,
Like I do with my food?
I do want to make it,
I hope to survive.
Overcome all the struggles,
And continue to strive.
I won’t always be happy,
I might sometimes cry.
But at least I’d no longer
be living a lie.