They say happiness is a choice.
And it is. When I choose you,
For all those smiles, the comfort,
The quiet moments, the walks,
The unexpected flowers,
₹1 toffees which mattered more
Than a galaxy or a milky way.
Because it told me you thought.
Of me.
They say happiness is a choice.
Or is it? When I choose you,
Over and over again,
Wordless fights, overwhelming silence,
Pointed ignorance and avoidance,
Classic hiding among others,
No expression, no communication,
But you still come back finally.
To me.
They say happiness is a choice.
Is it? When we try to figure things out,
When words unsaid loom over us,
When the guarded pauses are loaded
With tears, as of yet, by both, unshed,
When the end is inevitable but
Always, always, postponed,
Like a difficult final assignment
Long overdue.
They say happiness is a choice.
And it is - When we are fighting for
Each other instead of grabbing the
Other's throat, pushing to walls,
Dragging down by hair,
Clawing, screaming, animalistic mess;
When we fight to keep each other,
Not to lose one other by the
Month's end.
They say happiness is a choice.
Or is it? When my long road of dreams
And the sparks of happiness rest
Awaiting the reply of a single man,
Giving him the power of Lord to decide
Whether I die with him or live without,
Giving him the power of fate to decree
Whether I am privileged to share his life,
And him, mine.
They say happiness is a choice.
It is. I'm choosing now on my own,
Gods be damned.
Maybe we were too good for each other.
Maybe we burnt too high.
The flames had to die someday,
There is no warm house for us,
Only cold separate ways. No us now,
Just you, me.
