Happy
So, I am happy. I do have that going for me.
What could possibly go wrong?
I used to be happy.
What went wrong.
This is not the happy that I remember.
There is no life in the moment,
no playful push and pull.
Only push or pull.
This happiness is plastic,
born of man and machine.
It is fragile in the hands
easily broken and discarded.
I prefer the old to the new.
There is happiness in the eyes
love in the touch
passion in the heart.
This happiness is burning,
yearning for release.
Strong, forged as steel,
lasting and eternal.
I should be happy.
Will it return?
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