Never Ending Search

Freedom, Being too Free, Is there such a thing? Seems that today, It's so All taboos, restrictions Let go, Down, wrong rivers We flow. Before, All was sin Now, Nothing is And we're still not happy! There we stand Like idiots With open hands, Waiting for Happiness, completion To fall from the sky Not even knowing That this feeling of emptiness Is individually created And that happiness is What we want to make it The potential for it, In each individual lies It cannot be donated Or created, No matter how much A spoiled and decadent society, Tries, complains or cries.