Hidden, Gone

I sit here thinking, into an endless mind, wondering when it happened, because before, it's all I thought, but now that seems no more.

What made it happen, is what I mouth in my mind, who took it, and hid it, is what I want to know.

Maybe I'm just insane, because it's not gone at all, it's still here, as bright as day, with the darkness that follows.

These thoughts flood through me, echoing within, if it's not gone, then why is there an empty hole, of where it used to be.

But maybe all I'm feeling is happiness, which fills that empty hole, am I glad it's gone. or do I want it back?

That's silly, of course, no one would want it here, for if it remains, it haunts my soul, bringing sad and depression, to surface.

That's just it, that's what it was, it's faded down, and worn out, and I know who did it. For I'm the one who hid it.