What a fleeting feeling it is
This thing they call happiness
Too light to grasp
To dainty to hurt
To moody to stay
You feel like it leaves you, always far away
Sometimes it likes to entwine itself with loss or lust
Maybe with a little bit of missing something or someone
Hoping to make its way back to you only when you're being your honest self
Even when you're unsure of what you feel
Little fleeting happiness doesn't like fake things
Be it kindness, friendship any relationship
Beware not too focus to much on catching it
Again it's in its name
It's fleeting
YOU ARE READING
Pensée Of Anemones
PoetryA collection of Poetry I hide from my outside world and tell you unjudging strangers
