How Can One Be Humorous?
How can one be humorous, on this saddest of occasions?
The storm clouds move.
Rapidly, and with thunderous sound,
Making all things wet.
I see people singing and dancing
Splashing in puddles, mixing the mud.
But I just feel like drowning in my sorrows.
The make-up, down my face runs like blood.
They crack a joke,
I fake a smile.
The hurt I hold inside my soul
It can never be let out,
I will never be made whole.
Some might call me pessimistic,
But I am stuck in my head, a slave to my own emotions.
All I know is that I don't know anything.
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