Life and Death of Happiness
Mourn the death of good things which
have passed so quietly in the night,
cry over their funeral
growing uncontrollable as the casket is closed so tight.
Feel the warmth of good thing’s soul
as it escapes into forever after
wave good bye
with a tear in eye
to love,
to light,
to laughter.
Rush into the hospital,
you should have known, you were forewarned
that every time a good things dies
another is shortly born.
poem by Chris Weersing
Added by Poetry Lover
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