Happiness
Can only be found
If you search for it
Like a vicious blood hound
Happiness
Is just like love
Just to get it
You will push and shove
Happiness
Is just a door
You open it up
And you just want more
Happiness
Grows like trees
It gets really big
But dies in a breeze
Happiness
Is what I could never find
So I went to the dark
To sit and hide
I think happiness is what you make it. And trust me I sit in the dark all the time and hide I know the feeling it's not a good one. Good job! -Shell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Joey, I enjoyed this - not quite sure about trees dying in the breeze, but the over-all feeling is spot on. well done. >Thom