So happy in so little
So sad with so much
The gap between the haves and have nots
Is more often than not bridged
With what we call a smile
It’s a curve
And, at times, a curveball
It’s either served
On a platter
Or at a buffet, free for all
It carries with it the ghosts of unshed tears
Of trials, tribulations and all our fears
And silent screams of anguish
And efforts rendered futile
But they are what fuel and drive it
Through that very last mile
Moonlighting Scrivener 