happiness

I had a conversation last night that ran deep

For the first time in a while, I was asked if I was happy.

We both laughed and scoffed, I didn't need to answer,

But it led us both to reflect together and ponder.

What even is happiness?

We asked each other

Perhaps it's what you feel when there's no chasing left to be done

We reasoned maybe we'd just not known it for the rat races run

But then I suggested, what if that's wrong?

What if it's a fugazi, a fraud, a lie and a con?

What if it's just a moment in time?

A minute little window between reality's grinds.

It was a sobering thought though melancholic in spirit,

Maybe it's not a state you'll reach one day and let tomorrow inherit.

The older I get the less about happiness I seem to know,

Maybe to be happy really is an illusion and perhaps to know it I'll always forego.

So what even is happiness?

I can't say I know

But I hope one day I'll bask in it's glow.

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