Each one to his own

I try to run after him and he slips by
He seems away, then I find him by my side
When I look away, so does he
But when I lean in, he reaches for me

I may be called a hundred things
For chasing that to which I cling
No doubts, I have been asked to let go
But the one who never gave up, ask what he knows

Seems pretty dark, but it is so
nevertheless, my pursuit is not low
for some it is dreams, for others a love
for me it is my shadow that I cant think above