What is it that I truly seek?
What happened to the beauty,
in all that I used to see?

Can someone explain what happened to me?

I used to have the buzz and the impetus, that you'd see in a bee.
But these days, I look like a stone tied to a tree.


Asking myself,
at which age did happiness decide to flee?

[you] sat on a park bench
Thunderclouds surround [your] head
[you] glare harshly at passersby
None above [your] wrathful glance
The darkest storm withers
And yields to fogs of gray
As [you] eclipse once sunny skies

"Hey [you]"
Squeeks the smallest of girlish voices
"What. Do. You. Want, small one?"
[you] wheeze through gritted teeth
"Why do [you] look so grumpy?"
Elicits green eyes between blonde pigtails
"Buzz off you nosy mouse! [i'm] grumpy
Can't you see that!?"

"Why so grumpy, it's a lovely day"
[you] cross [your] arms defiantly
"Lovely?  Hah!  Dumb little girl"
Her face scrunches up
"I'm not dumb"
[you] turn your face away
To cast [your] glance
At other poor happy victims

"Life's pretty good, I think."
As she opens candies wrapped
"Who made you an exp..."
As [you] try to finish fiery words
She places chocolate in [your] mouth
Brown smear across [your] cheek
A moment hangs pregnant in the air
The building of a storm

Seconds drag through eternity
A twitch at corners of [your] lips
But a little girlish gap-toothed grin
Drains [you] of feelings so hostile
As brutal youthful honesty
breaks foul moods, and makes [you] smile