Happy poems

only the crown of our thoughts
makes the most heavy acres of the mind
complain about the dust, metal and color of pain.
there is a flaw in every good
and a good in every flaw
there is a sky for the floor
as well as a floor for the still water.
A mule knows nothing about broken bones
if all four hooves do not touch the ground
at a particular time.
if a painting does soft to numb a pain
know that memories could bring it back
if a memoir could paint a little smile
there’s nothing a scar would not do
to remind the page of its presence
dead and alive.
a king’s mind still owns silence at night
while the cricket still makes love to it
a lizard does crawl to scratch its itching belly
but no one tells its stories
better than death.

Ruddapoet