Where is the simple
serendipity
of hearts in heaven,
whole and free?

Where is the joy,
excitement and such?
Who are these people
who can love so much?

The blue skies above
are gray in their palor
The dawn is a drag
for sleeping hours

Cream curdles quick
in coffee quite dark
and the sun is a pain
An unrelenting spark

Eyes shaded well
against accidental looks
No greeting as subtle
as a nose in a book

Chatterboxes stifled
with buds in these ears
No time to listen
No time for tears

Here is the bliss
of being unknown
Embrace the dark clouds
There is joy on your own