Tragic Ham and Purpose
Sometimes it is hard just to breathe,
Life comes at you so fast and the memories
Of happy times rob you of emotion in reflections.
Sometimes I believe I’ve used up all my happy moments,
Facing a lifetime of every other emotion,
Can one be empathetic to my predicament?
Or is loneliness another emotion I am forced to act out,
Day by day.
Day by day, morning fizzling into a gloomy lunch of week-old ham,
How lucky is that ham,
That it may have a purpose, even if the purpose is tragic.
And is it ironic that I munch this ham in a gleeful kitchen,
Streaks of sunlight tracing my own purposeless body?
Hunched over a table, striped with age and walnut finish.
This beautiful sunlight that gives so much joy.
Is joy the same as happiness?
If not, than I may have a positive emotion yet,
For joy strikes us with momentary contentment,
A rare occurrence that would make even the worst emotion
More bearable.
Bearable is all we need to be,
Taking each life event, and soaking it in.
It’s possible to deal with unforeseen events,
To bear every plague, misfortune, and turn of luck.
My ham sandwich knows nothing of those things.
It merely knows how to exist, and how to be used,
But then again, maybe I'm a ham sandwich too.
I like this...sometimes it does feel like "Bearable is all we need to be." I also like where you talk about the connections between joy and happiness.
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