Petition to Happiness
Is your countenance
So low because I kept
You in the dark?
Swept from a sunny
Happy home beneath
6000 kelvin.
Though I fed, loved
And cherished you
I only ever saw you stare
At the floor
And now your wilted
Lashes tumble and
Lie in sad piles
Beneath your pedestal
Even as your brethren
Are erect with
Joie de vivre
And brilliance.
My poor darlings
Recall that it is
Your state of mind
Not your state of being
So raise your lowered head
And smile to the universe.