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Aug 2014
Many people living seem so depressed.
I'm wondering, whatever happen to joy?
Joy of friendship.
Joy of love.
Joy of understanding.

We quickly remind our hurt and pain.
And can name the person that placed it there.
But if you write down the good times had.
You'll find it out weigh more than a small problem in your mind.

So, whatever happen to joy?
Where you laugh about those good memories?
Or about fitting into clothes that ripped at the seam.
We must know we make our own joy upon earth.
Heaven is a joy, we all hope for.

We should be joyful.
Once you locate the meaning of it.
I bet you end up being happy.

Some shout for joy.
Some live for joy.
Some still create their joy.
And let's be honest some drink for joy.
Except they seem too high upon it.

We should fill in our hearts with great joy.
Enough that love dictates our action and moods.
Let us leap for joy.
To the point, we don't have to ask the title of this poem.
jeffrey conyers
Written by
jeffrey conyers  united states
(united states)   
561
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