Who the hell can see forever?

What happens
when your pen runs out of ink
and your mind runs out of thoughts
and your mouth runs out of breath
and you sit and you stare and you think
and you live and youre dead but your breathing and
you feel a heartbeat
but you're just there.
what happens
when you give all you can give
and you expect for more than you want
and you get what you want but dont have what you need
and you hear but you dont listen
and you talk but you aren't speaking
and you feel with touch but not your heart.
what happens
when everything is taken from you
and the carpet is pulled from beneath your feet
and you're laying down look up at the ceiling
and you regret everything you could have done
and you wish you had done this or said that
and you wander in your mind and wonder on the ground
and you figure you're in the wrong place at the wrong time
and you are excited and full of joy and aspiration
and you have the breath taken out of your mouth
and the wind knocked out of you
and you listen to songs that bring back nostalgic memories
and you want nothing more to make new, beautiful memories
and you're exposed but you're hidden
what happens
when you have a closet full of clothes
and nothing to wear
and you have twenty pairs of shoes
and you only like two
and you have hobbies and goals and ambitions
but you put other things infront of what you're striving for
what happens
when it's 1 fucking 30 in the morning
and you cannot sleep
and you're worried, and tired, and sleepy, and anxious, and thinking, and content, and drained and hopeful and sore?