They don’t write poems about happiness






They don’t write poems about happiness

the happenstances that make you forget

catastrophic magnificence of your being

the glances you share with the mirage of your feeling

the ballroom dances referenced in those lyrics he was singing

the trances of the hypnotic redemptions in the stories you were reading

the romances in the medieval tales you heard them reciting

I guess it’s because

the surffrances humans feel supersedes the nuances of living

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