None of us really do,
At least, not when you stop to think 'bout it,
It's not all that imbues,
There are also those things that erase time,
Joy, love and excitement,
If you are lucky, they will pay the bills,
Else your mind is osc'llating betwixt them,
A constant distraction from what is real,
Joy, love and excitement,
This ain't a problem, for a moment of one,
Is the whole sentiment,
Of what life is,
You can die after that,
The rest is just striving for it again,
Or forgetting you were ever that glad.
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