One form of happiness

If there is a relation between me and my elation with the absence of things I note on every single occasion,

Then believe me when I say there would be no time to pray when time would fly by so quickly paced in a moment so gay,

I could cry.

It's a minute drenched in sweet,

Secluded like a mammals single teat.

I could die.

It's a burden to those who crave it,

Public to those whose paths are dim lit.

I guess that's one thing money can buy.