Are You?

Are you happy?

What an innocent thing to be asked.

Yet we're so quick to respond,

For we fear the truth will come out,

If we take too long.

We often overlook it as just another question.

The answer is so convoluted and complex,

Reflecting what we took from life's lessons.

Yet it carries the weight of the world.

Our world.

With an answer no one will understand,

Plagued by the lack of effort,

By those who don't really care if they can.

...

So are you happy?

I ask the one for who this is written for.

For the one who took the time to read.

For the one who braved the deep alone,

And in the dark began to ask.

Is you heart satisfied with its current state?

Or does the heart burn for more?

...

We are the hangman tying the rope.

We are the executioner in the black hood.

We are the harbingers of our own demise.

It's easy to paint over our unhappiness,

And behind the mask is where it hides,

Only for it to evolve into something we despise.

Whether this knowledge comes now,

Or whether it comes later,

The results will always remain the same,

When it's the outside hearts we're willing to cater.