Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2022
Happy, without.
Well, I might not be where I want to be.
But eventually, we get there.

Those that have.
Seem so much sad.
That wealth didn't make them happy.

But without much.
We appear to be happier.


No rich cars outside the house.
No maids or butlers to keep up the house.
But when we look around?
We can say we are so blessed.
jeffrey conyers
Written by
jeffrey conyers  united states
(united states)   
117
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems