Happiness Not Shared: A Poem
Most times I feel on top of the world
eager to share it with every living soul
but I see others with their misery curled
unwilling to touch me with a ten-foot pole.
Just like a leper shunned by the crowd
I used to feel on so many occasions
being happy but not being proud
no soft touches, only abrasions.
People don't want to be inspired by you
when they see you joyful and all aglow
they'd rather see you pissed and blue
that's what their faces readily show.
Should I feel guilty for every smile
for feeling light like birthday balloon
I envision all grouches as put on a pile
with the very first rocket sent to the moon.
Then I keep having my solo fun
with every tiny flower and blue sky
basking happy heart in summer sun
borrowing wings of a carefree butterfly.