So many of them,
Seemingly meaningless now.
Then, they were the whole world to me,
And now they have been swallowed up into a world,
Where dreams go when they have been achieved
Or thought impossible.
I remember the feeling,
That I needed to keep reading the same book
Again and again.
I never got tired of it,
Until I realized how pointless it really was.
Some obsessions, though,
I never want to end.
I want that feeling
To go on for infinity and beyond.
Because they give me a purpose,
And without a purpose,
People become restless
And get obsessions
But they are the wrong kind of obsessions.
So I guess you should look for a middle kind of one,
A gray obsession,
Instead of a black or white one.