What is happiness? A smile from your mother? A warm hug from your father? That’s their love, full of sweetness. Well, what’s love? The gifts you clutch to your heart? Praising you to be the work of art? The promise of a good new start? To remember you when they fall apart? It’s just hope, keeping desperation apart. Then, what is hope? Someone to return back to you? Someone to say you are too good to be true? Someone who loves you, just as you do? There’s a hint of sadness, something to cope. Why am I sad? No-one to throw my way fake appreciation? Trustworthy enough to drag away desperation? Caring enough to show me consideration? No-one to light my path of desolation? These are emotions, for which humans are glad. Why is it so confusing? Show your emotions, You’re a monster, Hide them, You’ll be a mess, a disaster. Emotions are excusing, refusing. A path for some to hide their wrong, A light for others to make them strong. A hope for some to chase their dreams, Some give you fright, nightmares and screams. You ask me, my emotions? My love? To watch the peaceful, deep blue sky above. My happiness? To run through the never ending grasiness. My hope? To feel the wind through me as they trope. Am I sad? That’s not true… I am just living up to me, not to you.