HAPPINESS Poem by Mona Kareem

She sits at the kitchen table;
A table for a man, a woman, and three children.
She settles her hand beneath her cheek.
And wishes the flowers on the curtain wouldn't fade.

Her husband works too much,
The money does too little, and the children
Need someone to listen to their lying tales.

She feels she cannot talk to anyone.
She escapes every night, dressed as a clown,
In the main square she spends the night with passers-by
Talking about things unrelated to happiness.

She promises: I shall allow
No one to rob me of this clown.