Same Ole Pursuit
It’s what’s desired most.
It’s presence is that of a ghost.
To some,
It just may never come.
But nobody thinks to question our host.
A raw emotion
That reminds some of the ocean
Is now being artificially bred.
It even leaves some dead,
Because they can’t find their path through the commotion.
The muse will tell you it’s close by,
Because she doesn’t want you acting shy.
Filling a bottomless glass,
That just seems to harass.
We’re all on the same pursuit,
But most of us just don’t know how to make the commute.
Happiness hornswoggles us all,
And we never even think to call a foul ball.
