Life's all about filling spaces.
This is only a small example of one of those places.

I walk around in search of meaningful traces,
but at days end, all that's flashed by is meaningful faces.
I wonder often how much vast energy has been wasted.
I told a few stories and the listener wasn't even fazed.
So I had to sit and think if we were even on the same page.
He told me other shit; his life filled with simular, but different rage.
Its no wonder why either of us were neither amazed.
I guess that just how our interests tasted, moment for moment, looking back at how they were just wasted, cause at that time and moment, our lives were about.
"Filling Spaces"