The Street Where All The Happy People Live Poem by Charlie F. Kane

A bright and early summer morning,
Though it’s not really summer
This side of town
Is always full of sunshine.

You turn left and pass
The street where all the happy people live.
The first house you go pass
Holds the owner of the local pub,
His wife and his kids.
He’s a happy man,
Loves his job,
Loves his kids,
Loves his wife.
It’s only a shame
They don’t love him back.
The house next door is
The cellblock of
Former jolly man,
Whose family were killed tragically
In a car accident.
He holds his head high on the street,
They respect and admire him for it,
But inside in the dark he cries bitter tears.
There’s another family next door,
The most loving couple
You could wish to meet,
As long as she does exactly what he says,
For fear of what he’ll do to her again
If she does not do as told.
On the other side
Lives another jolly family.
Expect for the young boy,
Rejected by parents who so
Rarely acknowledge his existence,
So he plans to move away permanently
To that old undiscovered country.
The next-door housewife
Sits alone all day
And the nights in the company
Of a different man.

As you move out of
The street where all the happy people live
And you see distant rain clouds on the horizon,
A storm is looming,
Perhaps it isn’t summer here after all.

© Charlie F. Kane

6/04/06