How I envy them poets and authors
To toss words into the air
And have them fall in perfect order
Why is it so easy to pour out my grief in a poem?
And so difficult to capture joy in print?
Joy exists in a fleeting moment
Grief lasts forever
Takes one to feel grief
Two to feel joy
My joy has already been shared and thus multiplied
My grief till now has been private
Alone in the dark my grief mushrooms
I need to find a friend to halve the burden
Will you be that friend?