I search for meaning and purpose

In this crazy world that's like a circus

The online search results are surplus

But all of them are just straight circles

Just hop on the wagon, the bus

Satisfied by nothing, but don't want to discuss

What could be our use

When we aren't the universe's muse

Accepting any purpose is just a truce

A balm for the mind, a feint, a ruse

Which is not ready to admit

That we are on an aimless cruise

To sail on, until our circuits fuse