Lying on my bed every night ,
I think of everything I’ve done- wrong and right.
Each distinct memory revving by,
Some making me giggle and some making me cry.
“What makes you happy ?” asked my heart,
The answer was merely an overwhelming void that tore me apart.
“Is there anything that I love” , asked my soul,
Its another big void- sucking everything up like a giant black hole.
I then thought,”Can I spread happiness or at least make someone smile?”
Yeah, many people raised their hands, a petty little solace at the end of an aisle.
But then, “What makes ME happy ?” is what I really want to know,
A puzzle still unanswered- a never ending woe.
Who am I ? and what do I want ?
Each answer starts asking something new, the night begins to haunt.
Something immediately seemed to ease my pain,
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