“What’s Happiness?”

“What’s Happiness?”

It’s not here, that’s what it is.

Standing on top of the highest building overshadowing the city,

I glance beneath on the thousands of feet under

As I bit my lip,

I do not see this supposed happiness, anywhere.

Someone hammered this quote into my head:

“Airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls.

The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of churches.”

Now this stinging headache tells me that this planet is all it’s cracked up to be

That a bogus smile is plastered all over this planet.

And we should never let this pseudo merriment falter, or else.

Riddling whispers want to drag me back in to the concept that

True feelings and integrity is nothing but a myth, a sham, a con, a joke.

Those who believe otherwise in that missing ray of hope,

Shall be crushed and eaten by the foolish thought of it.

That fake smile is our line of defense.

Which is why I’m barely standing here in desperation

Searching for pure gaiety, maskless faces, untainted souls.

Instead all I see is conditioned bliss, beautiful facades, crooked smiles.

People everywhere held their broken hearts close,

Petrified for it to be shattered, disintegrated.

Seems strenuous to maintain a strong pulse.

That lonely girl at school, she could have been a rock star,

If not being poured of Law homework that discontinued her dream.

That geeky nerd could have enjoyed being outgoing,

If not for the constant bullying that zipped up his personality.

That old aged janitor could have spent the last of his years smiling,

If random acts of kindness like a simple “Hello” didn’t cease to exist,

But it’s too late now since he retired to the afterlife.

The ignored, belittled, discriminated could have tasted happiness,

If not for the gnawing looks from people who are “proper” and “normal”;

If the LGBTQIA aren’t treated as a bunch of diseased and confused pricks demanding for attention;

If the delicate souls with serious mental illnesses weren’t called crazy retarded twats;

If the different and gifted weren’t demeaned as weird queers and lunatics for expressing individuality.

Basically the “proper and normal” hold up their noses high while the “abnormal” hide in their shadows, in tears

Tired, no, afraid of being themselves.

What about the high nosed privileged category?

They don’t seem very content at their lives too.

Stress, expectation and work leech on them, sucking them dry.

They need to be studious for college scholarships,

They need to be diligent for their plate of potatoes,

They need to graft for their children’s shelter,

They need to endure for their parents’ sake,

They need to put on masks and choose the right emote

Hold their breathings and grit their teeth because they’re underlings

Yelling and puffing out steam at petty details because they’re superiors

A normal life is not a walk in the park it seems.

Nope, it’s not here.

I couldn’t find it.

Happiness turned into fairy tales leaving everybody sobbing in the dark.

I ache for people.

That leaves me wondering what if…

Just what if I slipped?

From this rooftop with this newfound courage to end it all?

Plenty of reasons feed this dangerous thought,

What’s life if living is all it’s cracked up to be?

Why can’t we know what happiness is without knowing what sadness is?

Why should we continue to coo ourselves with further lies?

When one step from this building edge could lead us to…

I stepped back and sighed.

I guess I’ll just keep on searching.

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One comment

  1. Normal life has option to struggle..the very freedom to exert ourselves for something or anything worth gives us a satisfaction that makes us happy..abnormal people have to struggle twice first to prove they can do this struggle and then to achieve..happiness is always found in small things..bigger happiness are never achieved ..rather gifted to you by someone who loves you.

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