Sadness Poem by Thomas Ware

Anger, greed, or happiness,
Nothing can compare,
To the long lived emotion,
That humans dub despair.

The consuming reach of sadness,
What our most precious arts evoke;
It is sought but yet so awful,
It will make a weak man choke.

The man who lives in misery,
Is more valued to us than life;
So we depict him in books and movies,
Because we love to see that strife.

The work that ends in sadness,
Is more compelling to us than bliss;
To us, that book is better,
If the hero lives in abyss.