Betty's Bliss Poem by Charles Wax

Betty breathed vitality
Spinoza High School
could teach her nothing
about life
small, skinny
wore her hair in a pony tail
a smile forever flashing
across her face
in perpetual conflict
with authority
danced in class
smoked in the john
wandered hallways
until kicked out.
I saw Betty a year later
in the subway.
“How are you? ” I asked.
“Fine, ” she said smiling
at ease in her own being,
“just came back from a hearing in school.”
“Still the same trouble, uh? ”
“Yeah.”
The train rumbled
into the station.
Betty did what she wanted
and for awhile
the going might be rough
but in the end
she’d do well—
never abandoning joy
which alone
creates destiny
not merely grim acceptance.