Happy Days Poem by Sean Green

Those mountain tops are so very high
allowing one to touch the sky
only gods have this reach
if only this were ours to keep

even deities have feet of clay
thus mere humans are betrayed
by the shadow in plain sight
manic turned to plunging fright

depressive slopes lead downward
to the pits of hellish purge
what came of goals set before?
the die was flipped afterwards

the sorted plans of mice and men
are cast to pieces in the end
if only life could remain
among the clouds of happy days.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20200114.