When there is no pain,
The words seem to fade,
To a faint voice in the back of my head,
To a scribble on a paper not worth sharing not worth keeping,

When there is no pain,
I feel too busy to write,
So I listen to the words in my head,
Not itching of a scribble or a write.

So all those times I write happy poems
It's me .trying to use words for comfort
In an ultimate reality of words
Disappearing in each imagination

So I'll try to write this happy poems,
No anger
As an "Inhale love Exhale hate"gesture
Even if it seem like I'm too busy at my happy moments