Open your eyes and see the sun light,

The truly fun, fundamentals.

Why grasp on to the same thing

That people commit suicide to?

The awful badness? Emotional sadness?

Past suppression? Current depression?

This is a break from the strained chain

Of gloomy nimbus clouds.

To talk of an emotion that can’t be explained.

This is about those days you wake up on the

Right side of the bed and the cool side of the pillow.

The weeping willow becomes a proud maple,

Turning Tables,

Your shoulder chip had a quick fix,

You gave it the deep six.

Unshackled the weight so rooted to your conscience. 

This is about rainbows,

And attaining the treasure at the end.

This is about helping old women cross the street.

Beautiful feelings all completely unique.

Playing Hide-N-Seek with children.

Flowing Creeks,

And Glowing Stars.

Footprints in fresh snow.

The first bite of a candy bar

And the last stroke of a pencil.

This is about your feet on hot sand.

Lending a hand to your fallen brother.

A cozy winter slumber huddled by the fire.

Just tilt your head back,

Close your eyes,

Remember younger times.

Your first Sun Rise.

This is to bring back happiness.

To bring a smile to a deaf man’s face

Because he doesn’t need ears to hear love,

That is something we all feel.

This poem is about the time you got

Scraped while playing in the tree,

When your mom kissed it and made

The hurt go away.

Chicken Noodle soup on a cold day.

Licking brownie mix off the spoon,

Sleeping till noon.

Childhood went away way too soon,

But the memories are here.

This poem is about family reunions,

Getting the bigger half of the wishbone .

Reaping what you have sown.

Watching your baby boy grow.

This is about a little girl

Dancing on Granddad’s  leather shoes.

This is about having the ability

To Win and Lose and

Be happy no matter what.

Shooting your first gun, a good morning text,

PB&J for lunch, Really good makeup sex.

This is about raising your glasses,

Toasting to a new world order.

A future where it’s ok to be a hoarder of

Flashbacks, Nostalgia.

Happiness isn’t algebra, and Love has no formula.