It was never just, It might have been the justice or the jester

I want to be happy, but not light and flighty
I want to be sad, but not cripplingly caught
I want to be full, but not compalcent
I want to be empty, but not hopeless
I want to be inspired, but not wishful
I want to be dead, but not on the outside

Seython thu was of thi modur boron.
He bleeds like you,
Sheds solemn tears like you,
Laughed so freely, once like you,
He smiled to spite the moonlit nights
Where he learnt the why, and how it meant to like you
He was and is, and hoped to be
Now dismayed, for trice betrayed
By things he held most dearly
In the things that stirred within,
He hoped, and dashed them dearly.

Pick me up and turn me round
And spin me till we all fall down
Will be giddy, will be glee
I wish for all eternity
I write for you, and shooting stars
And things for wishes long since past
I long to hear the charming bells
And peals of laughter from the well
Pick me up like chocolate
And other richly, sweet sensations
Pick me when the spirits rise
And orange courage shades my eyes
Then let me down and send me off
With your tender kisses and darling laugh
I'd walk a step and turn a round
For you would never let me down.