Happiness is a strange word,
as it has a different meaning to everyone,
for many it is living that has it worth of being truly happy, and to many it is a purpose they try to furfill.A purpose to be remembered, by the next generation and sometimes even furter.
My happiness is something that can't be furfilled,
but isn't only the worth if being alive that does it for me.
But then, what is it?
Love? Family?No, the things I haven't done, it is a life which I have experienced it all, seen it all.
My greatest fear is leaving this earth, with nothing that I have seen except for the daily things outside my window.
JE LEEST
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