What Is
So very hard to find, define, and even more difficult to confine
What is this emotion filled with doubt and superstitious notions
Why is there even a special potion
It’s far more complex than abstract art
Yet it grabs hold of your heart like a permanent-body-part
Why so many intricate highs and lows
Why, no-one seems to ever know
It has highs explosive as the fourth of July
When everything seems simple - and sweet - as apple pie
Your life is filled with a sense of optimistic clarity
In a world filled with hopeless disparities
With not a worry in the world
Your mind, body, and soul are on permanent-cruise-control
But when it’s bad it feels worse than a stigma
That kind of pain is one hell of an enigma
When this feeling is altered or no longer shared
You’re left feeling lost-and-alone with no one to care
What an unimaginable burden to bear…
“What is”; what does this truly mean?
The answer to this question - for me - still remains unseen!
Lay
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