If I hear; “Be happy”
Ever again, I will puke my guts out,
Rid myself of the syrup and feathers
Expelling them from my mouth.
Like some mother’s dictate,
Better eat your vegetables
Served upon your plate.
As if happiness is a digestive
With a side order of time
And life a desert with a skip along rhyme.
Be happy like some Falstaff character
Fat and bald,
With his laughter bouncing off the walls.
And when I sleep,
The fairies so lightly come to my slumber.
They will struggle turning down the sheet
On your side of the bed,
Tucked so tightly,
Like my heart, now that you are dead.