happiness is not inherent
nor inherited,
not passed on in a dusty family scrapbook
parents can't package it for children
wish though they might
can't slip it into a card,
like so many bills equating to birthdays
can't secret it into the corner of a care package
to arrive unbidden but enjoyed no less
friends can't pass it on
like a carefully folded grade-school note
or a free drink at the favorite watering hole
work can't substitute it, not forever
faith can play-act it, but not forever
it's left up to the one
most desperately searching to find
to find if it is
and if it is, what it is
and how to hold it
so that that unhappiness might live only
as a memory of a reminder
of a life less good