Sat, 04/09/2016 - 23:29 -- thyrza

I chuckled at this question.

How common could this be?

I hurried to answer,

but hesitated, you see.


I have many things I cherish,

from my phone to my bed.

Yet, my response I had planned

resonated throughout my head.


In my times of desperate measure,

I always clung to a thought:

'I could live happily

without my happiness being bought.'


I thus moved from tangible objects

and thought of things from above.

I run on belonging, and,

belonging, on love.


This imposed the question:

What should I say?

Does this fit the guidelines?

Is this poem okay?


Yet, I know who I am,

and I know where I will cease.

So, in short, I would say that my answer is


This poem is about: 


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