There is nothing wrong,
With having ideals to believe.
Are possible to reach.
And in a state of mind one keeps,
Allowed to puff on legalized weed.
For as long as one wishes,
To dismiss the existence of reality.
"You're not from around here,
Are you? "
-No, I am not.
Just here on a short visit.
To see relatives and friends.
How did you know that? -
"Your happiness.
You reek of it."
-Oh, my God.
I'm sorry.
I didn't realize anyone could smell it.-
"Smell it?
I can see it.
You radiate happiness.
As if you discovered the 'key' of life! "
-My keys?
Where are my keys? -
"Calm down.
You've got them.
Shaking them around in your hand."
-Whew!
Thank you.
What a relief.
I nearly forgot where I was.-
"Uh...
Visiting friends and relatives? "
-Yes. Yes. Thank you.-
"Would you be...
Packing your happiness?
Or is it naturally grown? "
-It's natural.
And...
Organic.
Okay? -
"Sure.
I ain't got no problem with it.
I'm just saying it's noticeable.
That's all."
-That's all I need.
To be reminded I should buy mints.-
"For what? "
-To keep my happiness,
From overflowing.
And being arrested for my 'ideals'.-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem