Happiness is a tub of ice cream
Waiting to be eaten
Not some cute love story
Where every word was sweet

Happiness is reading a book
Waiting for each exciting chapter
Not some confession
Where every word is so predictable

Happiness is a teddy bear
Waiting to be cuddled every night
Not some bouquet of flowers
Where everyday was a life sentence

Happiness is spending time with friends
Waiting everyday to hang out
Not some time with a guy
Wherein you can't define him just as happiness

Cause he's not just your happiness,
He's your everything

All of us are worthy of something

Worthy of happiness,
Worthy of fortune,
Worthy of hope,
Worthy of help,
Worthy of love

We do not choose who makes us worthy of those things,
They determine if we are worth it.

As I bind these sheets in a monotonous routine way
I neglect to see what they are or hear what they talk about
Was it just some information they needed to convey?
Maybe just some words that hold some uncertainty or doubt

My metal decreases and turns to rust
Still I go on until my very last one
Continue with no hesitation, I must
Till the time will come when I say, ‘I am done’

I cannot resist, else I shall be obsolete
Nor can I continue without making a mistake
As my opponent does faster, I have accepted my defeat
Whilst I do my last attempt, I stop and break

I was used and discarded like the inanimate thing I am
Pushed away from the place I called home for many years
Thinking of a way to be used again, ideas I cram
But to no avail, I stay in the dark bin, crying without tears

Silent cuts to the arm of the boy who always smiles so bright
A happy-go-lucky person with circulating suicidal thoughts
The sociable and friendly girl's pillow who has seen her tears every night
No one suspects that their hidden emotions are turning themselves to knots.

The mask of a clean and bright face is the one everyone wants to wear because it is the only one that everyone else wants to see.
The only one acceptable to show.
The only one allowed to be seen.
The only one.

For them, behind every hug is a cut to prevent the sadness from emerging
Behind every laugh is a cry for help from a person hurting
Behind every joke is a plea to be free from the unforgiving black hole
Behind every smile is a stream of tears of a person hiding.

Hiding from society that taught us not to cry because it means weakness
Hiding from the reality that being sad about something is always not a big deal
Hiding from the people who would give us the looks of pity, forcing us to keep the tears in
Hiding from the truth that your reason for crying will never be enough to justify yourself

Unheard. Silent. Unseen. Kept.  Unreasonable. Hurt. Unaccepted.

Hidden.

everyone has a voice
to shout, to sing, to cry out or to whisper what they hold in their hearts
but a voice can be strangled or silenced by the voice of another
so be stronger and let your voice be heard

drown their degrading use of voice with your own
stand tall and use your voice for yourself or for another
let it not be for pain or sorrow
but for encouragement and empowerment

not all are lucky to have a voice as loud as the others
so be their voice entwined in yours for yours and his to be stronger
and help them find the strength in their voice
to speak out, to inform and to say that their voice is relevant

every voice is important
let the people know that they can be heard by all
maybe ignored by a few
listened by some
understood by others

every voice is relevant
let not one voice be muted by louder voices
but be strengthened by others
a voice is a super power that everyone possesses

Keeping thyself from its true emotions pushes down a person’s real identity.
As I lay there thinking about what I should do to find myself,
Not knowing that I trudge in my own restlessness for that recognition of knowing who I am
Yet I am unable to wade through the maze of unwanted feelings I have that blurs what lie in the center,
Eclipsing the fact that I only need to follow the path towards to what I want,

Without any hesitations or what ifs or regrets in accepting my own self.
Except I cannot determine if who I really am is who I want to be,
So I resist going towards the center,
Thus, I walk around that labyrinth, aimlessly figuring out if I would rather find myself or be someone else

A day with you was a day of sunshine,
A day of wonder,
A day of hope,
And a day of color

An hour with you was an hour of joy,
An hour of pleasure,
An hour to hold on,
And an hour of leisure

A minute with you was a minute of worry,
A minute of regret,
A minute of doubt,
And a minute of wanting to forget

Every day, hour and minute was a different emotion
A different feeling to remember,
A different thing to believe,
A different moment to savor