The unfinished breakfast with dumplings of snow
The winter time is still around but it's spring you know.
Associating to morbidity is not my cup of tea
Even if my desire is frozen, unable to overflow.
Emancipation thoroughly cherished but overused a state
Something too common for me to relate
Excavating through the sorrow is not doubt tiresome
But the sight of joy is always an energizing bait.
Narrowing down the distance with every strike of the shovel
But seems a mirage, a mystery I may never unravel
Yet the angst, the curiosity - which kills but not without a fight
The detective must lose now, life is hardly a novel.
Yet with the times frozen, as I happen to look upon the past
The hole was smooth I just happened to not squeeze fast
Beneath was probably happiness forever untrodden
Or that's how we see it, joy is what we can never get past.
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