Who is that Guy?

Who is that guy?
He is always out doing
How does he keep the pace?
So quiet and melancholy
I don't see much feeling
His eyes so focussed
Where is he going?
So hard to read
He gets to the point
No straying here or there
His countenance is cheerless
Do only I see this?
Who is that guy?

I am that guy
So busy yet distracted
I cannot keep this pace
So shy and unmotivated
The feeling is hidden within
I stare into nothingness
Wishing to find purpose
No words on my pages
I don't have time
For pleasures of sanity
My smile so forced
Only I know me
I am that guy

"Hundreds of years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... But the world may be different because I did something so bafflingly crazy that my ruins become a tourist attraction."