Through the lens of a broken child,
Is a world all her own.
With every step she takes in the dark,
Is one step farther from bliss.
Farther from herself.
Farther from the world.
She typed H-A-P-P-Y into the search engine of her mind,
"no matches were found" popped up.
"Look on the bright side" they say
But in that dreary rain cloud of a mind,
Reds, yellows, oranges, and pinks are invisible;
Evening strolls in the park,
Smiling and sipping sweet lemonade on the white porch are blocked by this advancing storm.
And the cloud is full.
Picnics on red checkered blankets and laying in the sun,
Laughing and dancing on a moonlit path,
Baking Christmas cookies with sisters,
And the smell of a decadent brownie
Have been rained on by that dreary rain cloud,
Struck by the harsh lightning that escapes from her gray blue eyes
And a thunder clap escapes from her lips
The army of ants close the heavy gates to the entrance of happiness.
The large pale pink arches
The electric green meadow
The flowing azeleas
Out of reach
Each day she looks at happiness
How can one not understand something they see?
She longingly gazes up the hill at the sun
How does one not know the feeling of the rays?
Why does one have to search?
The key is in our hands
The key to happiness
Is in reach.