Someone, somewhere actually is happy.

Sitting across the aisle is one;

Hands folded, legs crossed, sitting up tall

With bright blue eyes that shimmer

Pure bliss.

He knows not his name, but who

He really is.

The man is content; he smiles to me,

(But I am only a lonely stranger). Forcing a smile,

Realizing stranger am I,

Who cannot bring a smile to her face at will.

He can, because he knows,

He’s gay at heart, content in soul.

She stares, across open land, (what beauty

Isthis that I see?)

Trying hard to keep it all in,

(Keeping it in her heart)

This train moves fast enough…

The world seems to standstill.

(How many more rotations till it’s over?)

One second at a time, one thought.

She desperately wants to be that;

To be content like he.

To smile joyfully as she sits.

Never feeling the morose, the tears

Or the anger.

Constantly happy.

(it’s too much to ask)