Happiness

I stop at the same stop sign every night

I wait there way to long

Staring at the lights that beam from your house

The lights feel as if they come from an interrogation scene

I wonder if you ever look out the window from that kitchen that I remember so well and think is he there

And I wonder if I will stop taking the way home that passes your house

I wonder if I can forget these memories

I wonder if I can write a happy poem for once