Grow your own

I can not remember the smell of happiness.
Having tasted It once, makes me hungry.
The hunger can not be satisfied by food, I tried.
It's nutrition fattens the heart and soul.
Fresh out at the produce isle.
I have no choice but to grow my own.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2015
About this poem:
Realizing I have to do something about the state I am in.

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