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By Lauren Nagy, Editor

How can I know what I want

When what I wanted yesterday, and yesterweek, and yesteryear

I don’t want so fiercely today?

Will I ever want it that way again?

Or will it slowly dwindle and fade more,

As I join the masses who’ve “lost interest”?

I wonder whether I ever wanted it at all,

Or if I just thought it did,

Or if it was the idea I really wanted.

Even at the top of the highest tree,

A stolen apple turns sour,

And suddenly being up there

Doesn’t feel so cool anymore.

Just a flicker of a light, a sigh, another glance at the clock,

Is enough to set me spiraling:

“Do I really want this?”

“Or do I want to want it?”

“Or do I need to want it?”