The Lost Happiness

A Poem by Shubham

I sometimes quietly wonder,
What really makes people sad.
Is 'sorrow' the exact reason,
Or an experience, they just had?

Whatever it may be,
I simply cannot digest.
We must try to be happy,
He will take care of the rest.
At the end of the day,
We must realize this fact.
Sorrow breaks us apart,
And joy keeps us intact.

Sadness is not ideal,
And we must all evade.
Because happiness is something,
For which we are really made.

In all these years of life,
I've observed something strange.
People are not thoughtful,
They are ready to exchange;

All their well being,
For some amount of cash.
All their good health,
For some junk and trash.
All their self respect,
For gaining some fame.
All their loved ones,
For achieving an aim.

Exchanging all these things,
Is not at all a good trade.
Because happiness is something,
For which we are really made.

Today, while earning a living,
People have forgotten to smile.
Sadly every place today,
Looks extremely hostile.

They've forgotten the way,
Of helping someone needy.
They don't care anymore,
They've become greedy.
At every single moment,
They are feeling the heat.
Because of all this,
They are even ready to cheat.

What has happened to this world,
I am really afraid.
Because happiness is something,
For which we are really made.