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I'm Not Happy

Put on plastic smiles
Groucho glasses and a big cigar
Drop a quarter in the gumball machine turnstiles
Chew on aged blues, hard and sweet, no matter how deep the scar
I'm not happy, not because I need a drug
The truth is, we live in world that is sad
Though some prefer and SSRI or another slug
The truth is, we live in a world that is mad
We just prefer to cut out a rug
Covering up the holes, and dance a tad
Hoping that somehow, we won't fall through
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Sunday, December 24, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: sadness
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6/24/2021 11:08:29 PM # 1.0.0.634