Happiness is a Strange Thing
Happiness is a strange thing
Sometimes, It is easily within reach at times,
surrounded by happy laughters,
friends who wants to make you laugh,
and are happy to share your laughters,
people who makes you glad to be with them,
and are glad to be with you
Sometimes, happiness is lost.
Lost with friends whose laughter mean everything
Lost with lovers whose caress mean the world
Lost with forgetting who you are, and being tossed about in an unfriendly world.
Happiness is not a given, it needs to be seeked, and nurtured.
So when you found it, in the laughters of friends,
in the kind act of a stranger,
in the smallest dew dropp on a rose..
you hold onto to it,
and hope that it will live in your memories always.
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Comments about this poem (Happiness is a Strange Thing by Iris Rain )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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