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