My Life Is Happier Than I Make It Out To Be In My Poetry Poem by Shalom Freedman

MY LIFE IS HAPPIER THAN I MAKE IT OUT TO BE IN MY POETRY

My life is happier than I make it out to be in my poetry-
But who wants to hear about the nonsense of my own inner singing?
Pain Death Suffering Loneliness
The problems the complaints the difficulties,
Aren’t these more interesting?
The quiet joys may be Poetry too
If one has a gift for writing them-

Still complaining about how I am not good enough
Does not suggest I am overflowing with happines-
Perhaps my life is really no happier than I make it out to be in Poetry-
Perhaps I am fooling myself about my own happiness
As I all the years have fooled myself about my value as a writer
Perhaps I am not so happy at all-
And singing to myself
Is just another way I hide from myself
My own poetic nothingness-