Below is the poem entitled Happy which was written by poet
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Accurate. I asked a question, didn't have time to wait for the answer, acted upon gut instinct and found out the answers for myself.
Found that accuracy was subjective
Reflective of identity within, sinned again
Winners and losers all
Hell passed by this fall, called vacant hearts
To the podium, go home
I find that I have never been happy
Found that the questions were instinctual
But did not, in fact, 'stink'
Guts tell us lies as apt as brains link
To the wrong side of a track, left or right?
Right then, go home
I find that you have never been happy
Found that truth and love is the directive
Let lions leap for courage like this
Let men reap the reward
Let God take the credit
Oh, anything that is not?
Guts do not equal brains,
Come cast shackles off pain
Give him the lot
He can heal them
Capture an angel and free a soul
Lock it all up and never let it go
Hurt to heal, heal to hurt.
Stop the damned lies
Give the answer
Tie it down and give in
Lie down, it is within
Three Three Three
Sing it for me
I find that happy is not accurate.