Happiness under my socks
Is struggling to find ways to escape.
I pull it up- my loose socks, I mean:
And my happiness dwindles down at each step.
What good comes of lamenting?
The unheard happiness echoes loud beneath my soles,
The windy tales to start over again
Finds no way to seep in through the holes.
My happiness keeps decaying under my socks-
In lame health and spirit;
What fertilizers should I use
To manually regrow the "happiness" weeds?
Happiness has heard much of itself
And wants to relive the way it has always been;
But the monotony stays indifferent to the
Reflections of sunrise as the sunrays hit the screen.
~the Waning happiness
YOU ARE READING
An Aurora over the Skyline
PoetryPoetries soothe better than anything: and how tempting and ecstatic does your heart feel to read quotes that you could relate to? And, what about self-development, the verses that give you a sense of confidence and an essence of bliss in the stresse...
