She asked absentmindedly if he is happy truly
Through a dozen shields of complements and praises her question went through
The three words a catalyst to a stagnant volcano making it unruly
Once upon a time he wanted to be happy too

Not every thing is for sale and yet everything has a price
They say happiness can't be bought but to have it comes at a cost
He tried for so long to focus on things that brought him joy
A foux path led him so astray he could barely feel all he had lost

Blame may be relative but guilt is always true and final
The weight of his selfishness bore down on him
The result of so much time wasted on nothing sent him into a pity spiral
He learned that to want joy had become his greatest sin

Perhaps the type of happiness he saught was the problem
He met reality like a freed slave learning no one is really  free
'are you happy' she asked again wanting an answer
With a heavy smile, he said 'happy has never been for me'

By-Hugo