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What am I really After?
The sky is my diary,
the clouds are my ink,
the sun is my lamp,
and the rain is my tears,
while I'm writing my story behind all of my fears.
The space will be my bed,
Lying like I'm dead,
Reading my story of tragedy,
Bringing it to life in my head magically.
Like watching my own personal movie,
Oh yea, it is directed by me,
Produced by me,
And Written by me.
I bet it will win the Cannes Film Festival,
No, the Grammy Awards,
I say it's war!,
Because I personally think it would be on Oscar.
I know it's worth it,
Because life is not worth a single nickel,
If you don't work hard to have it's real meaning,
I recorded my life in a piece of paper,
Wrote it as if I'm writing a book,
called " Happily Ever After ",
Searching for the answer
in this question; What Am I really after?
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