I met Happiness,
On the dreary streets of this gray city,
He picked me up,
And bought me bread.
I shook hands with Love,
At times a cruel jester,
Yet it's only a cover act,
To hide his deep sadness.
I talked to Inspiration,
The man himself,
He didn't have a lot to say,
But I felt wizened anyways.
I reached out to Solitary and Silence,
But nobody knew solitaries face,
So the news studio didn't let him in,
Silence simply had no comment.
Loosely based off a poem where I imagined the places happiness hanged out.