what is happiness?
why do i constantly
chase it?
why is there a need
for me
to be
happy?
when life is
cross
or gross,
i long for happy thoughts.
memories that i treasure
shouldn't give much pressure.
instead, it should be a leisure
to think of them and assure
myself that they are not really obscure
when i remember them in the future.
it is indeed vague, what lies ahead.
i'm not sure which path to tread.
all i wish for is that my faith would not waive
until the moment i reach my grave.
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