The Death of My Happiness

waking every morning with this pain,
realising that i am alone,
my life as usual are lies,
i hide behind a mask of joy,
concealing this unhappy feeling,
hiding from the world my true self.

i walk up this street everyday,
watching the children playing their games happily,
and as for me,
alone i walk,
in the cold and in loneliness,
i wish i could stop breathing the air,
i wish i could stop this beating heart,
but i know,
i cannot because i was borne into this cruel world,
i was borne to suffer like the others around me,
i need to endure,
i need to tolerate this pain and this suffer,
i wish i was strong enough,
but i am still weak,
i wish i was strong...

i know i can be strong,
i used to be strong,
i used to know what true happiness was,
until,
it happened to me,
as it happened to many others,
this heart had broken into a thousand flaws,
but it met its death,
i met mine,
my happiness...
my positive emotion,
met its end...

this is the death of my happiness...

© Jasima Junaidi 2008

You ought to be wondering why I didn't use any capital letters... There a reason to it. Normally, in the world of literature, it is a sign of being small... In the case of this poem, I not only feel small but I feel like I do not exist at all and the fact that all feeling for happiness had died.

Owh well.