Let try happy

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HappySuch a strange little word,

Feelings flits like flying bird,

I’ve heard of happy, what must it be?

Is it something real to see?

Or something tangible to touch?

Dose it arrive with balloons and such?

Was it real in childhood days?

When I used to run and play?

Did it come with birthday cake?

Or secrets nights I laid awake?

Was it a kiss so sweet and light?

Or the horror film filled with giggles and fright,

Was it studying and getting it right?

Or wrapping up warm on a winter’s night?

What is happy I need to know?

Tell me the how you get that glow,

A smiling face not happy I see,

Is laughter happy?

Not for me!

I know that I can now pretend to be,

That thing called happy that others see,

About Mr BPD

About Author. I have Borderline Personality Disorder and as a writer and poet I explore my madness through the creative arts. I have a personal belief that even in darkness light exists and it is a personal responsibility to always seek the light and I find the light in creating something.
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