63. There Are Days
There are days
When good thoughts are difficult to muster.
It’s digging for gold.
We are rewarded
By seeing bits of happiness stirred up
Among all we have to bear.
In the deepest of rivers
And the darkest of caves in which we walk,
There are always gems to find anew.
A tiny Insect can start the spark
That will ignite beautiful images
That were considered long-forgotten treasures.
Fireflies and Butterflies
Elicit broad smiles in any terrain.
It is the magic of memory.
It is amusing
To recall the pleasant days we’ve had.
Especially, when we’re sad.
Make up the Treasure Chest which we all have.
May it overflow!
64. Playing Games
Brings out one’s true-blue personality.
Have you noticed this?
Watching People play
Is akin to viewing a mob revolt.
Moods and faces are ugly.
Some People can’t get enough
Of the personal, physical abuse
Which causes problems when they’re older.
I, myself, prefer not to play games.
The competition is too serious.
Yes, I did play Scrabble; but, not to compete.
Why do we enjoy winning
When we know someone must be the loser?
Do we all have a sadistic streak?
Children are observed
Running around, yelling, and having fun.
Energy must be released.
A game ends.
Sweaty Players go their separate ways.
Life’s a brutal game.