No one is entitled is to happiness.
They may be deserving of love;
or feel they are worthy of lavish gifts
and quantities of quality comforts
that exceed what they themselves
are willing to put out…
Everyone is capable of goodness.
Or at least doing good;
but many a time
their gratitude and energy run thin
and the frailty they carry with them
projects unkindness and curt remarks
that lead to even franker apologies—
none of which mean anything at all—
but means so much to someone else
who may have just been looking
for a smile…
People are definitely warranted a smile.
But when forced it works
against the maker and its victim
turning a somber face into a
sour puss that gravitates towards
the ground and drags all down with it…
For example, in one particular case:
He is not aware of his selfishness,
for he is barely a romantic.
It would never cross his mind to lift a finger
to help his wife with dinner
without making it into a chore
and he hasn’t thought in many years
to remove himself from his leather chair
to join her for supper at the eat-in table,
and catch up on the events of her life
that he seems to keep forgetting,
for no matter how many times she tells him
of her plans for the weekend
he seems to only retain what is
noteworthy information for him.
Meanwhile, she is a sensitive beast
who is constantly fed up and frustrated
by small inconveniences.
She jumps to conclusions and tunes out her husband;
she pulls the noose tight and lets loose her anger—
to her he is her whipping post and she lets no failing slide.
(And he has many as we have pointed out.)
But she no longer cares
for what he does with his life;
she masks inklings of interests
as she invests her time in the
social-media-page happiness of others,
wallowing in her melancholy humors
rather than wrapping herself up
in the warm fire he made for her
and embracing his small gesture
to increase her comfort.
But their entitlements to perfection
and constant good cheer
make them uncomfortable with each other,
less dependable on the other,
and more reliant on empty distractions
to cut the growing tendency to avoid one another…
And I, who prides myself in good social standing with all
still feeds from their pockets and plates like a
stingy beggar sneaking around their savings
dropping hints of my hoarding while still wanting more
and putting on smiles for their woes, churning out
soothing words for their worries like candy
for them to suck on while my grungy patch job
falls apart within a day and for fear of facing
this mile-high pile of dirty stinking sin will
secretly contemplate jumping out the window
for a nice familial severance package.
We are all in need of caring.
And selflessness, in our own actions
and in those of others, is only the start.
For we deserve what consequences may come
from what we do, but we can all still
hold on to choice to decide
whether to make our lives good
and to fill them with the happiness we believe we earned…
Or did we.
I am not a poet 