Always chasing, chasing, chasing.
Always chasing something more.
Why do I believe happiness,
Is just beyond the door?
My life is filled with goodness.
I have nothing I deplore.
Yet, instead of enjoying the moment,
I am frowning at the floor.
Why am I keeping track of others,
Trying to even up the score?
I have relatively good health,
Nothing on me is sore.
Why is finding contentment
Such a heavy chore?
Always chasing, chasing, chasing.
Always chasing something more.
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Always Chasing Something More
by Stephanie Daich
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