I'm sick of these love songs;
these odes to romance
where a man loves a woman.
I love happiness but
she art an elusive mistress.
She visits me but she seldom stays long;
she never stays the night.

She never lays beside me on my bed
to ease me into slumber.
Come the advent of midnight,
she forsakes me in the dark and
leaves me to the cruel hand of insomnia.
I remain a praying man for
fruitless devotion is better than
accepting the void.

They would see my pain
if they weren't blinded by my smile.
Perhaps I hide it too well,
closing my eyes when I weep.
But the tears that should fall like rain
no one sees for they drown me inside
and never do they leave.

I love happiness
despite she being the misleading
and deceptive dame she is.
I love the fleeting moments of her sweet touch,
I love when she fills my hollow smile
and reminds me why I haven't ended it.
But she seldom stays long;
she never stays the night.