Happiness?

Just trying...

People always ask me
Why is everything you write so sad?
I don't think there's any one answer

My thoughts would spin and create worded patterns
As a means to distract from the real world
So why would I try to write
When I was happy with that world?

When a true smile is on my face
I think only of the current situation
Then when I'm alone
Its faded too fast

I can't put down in words
What happiness is to me

Maybe it's cliché to say it's simple things
My favourite sugary food
Cuddling under a quilt
Waiting to watch a scary movie

Listening to one song over and over
Seeing I've managed to make my own money
Hearing praise from my own father
Looking over a freshly written page

Even though I glimpse flaws
There's happiness in knowing what I've done
Holding the one I love close
Looking in the mirror and not finding fault

When it comes to what brings me joy
I'm really quite a simply girl
But I guess that hard to see
When it's hidden under the mass
Of all my insecurities

The End

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