Happiness

Sometimes,

Before the eerie touch of despair

Or after the gentle grasps of doubt

There comes a vase of living happinesses

Each beautiful

Thriving

And colored in their own respects

All carrying an underlying tranquility

Surrounded in fizzing bubbles

And sweet scents

 

But this is

A time

Where time

Makes all things mortal

The happinesses, cradled in their crystal case

Wither away and die.

And then comes Despair and Doubt

Closely followed by the Angers

 

But this is not a story about

Anger

Or

Doubt

Or

Despair

It is the story

Of the cycle

Of growing happiness,

Cultivated and cut-

Displayed in vases-

And loved as center pieces-

Of lives and worlds,

That will eventually die

But grow once again.

 

For Despair, Doubt, and their brothers, the Angers

Will never stay forever

While people still plant

Seeds of hope

Into the world’s weary soil

Author's Note

Oh, free verse poetry! The lack of confines give to much freedom to silly writers!

Reviews

[Cristal Bridges]

For Despair, Doubt, and their brothers, the Angers
Will never stay forever
While people still plant
Seeds of hope
Into the world’s weary soil

I love that last stanza! It's great, and beautiful, and true! I know that I still plant a seed of hope, always, and hopefully you're right that things will someday change. : )