My Unstable Poetry

Selling Are Wishes

People early in life tell you happiness is

free,

Yet even if it cannot be contained

In the smallest of bottles, and glows

from the eyes it has conceived

Are happy 'wishes' have a large price

tag,

hidden, wrapped, coiled, so thin

around the package

It's like a circle of light that shines

around it

Death; may be the answer

(In some causes that is)

What we, ourselves, cherish most gets

taken away

And the greedy souls who get the new

package, forget the old, and smile,

drunkenly; at the sunlight