That disparaging look cast upon the poor vagrant

The leaves swept off the sidewalk and the puddles avoided

Notions of happiness with their wings clipped to maintain this stale standard of conformity

The art classes being cut in favor of another monotonous round of arithmetic

The bike left in the garage in favor of traffic filled streets and gas guzzling monstrosities

Simple joys being left inside, failing to see the light of day as often as they used to

Losing the personal connections you established in favor of an increase in pay

Forgetting how it feels to press the callused tips of your fingers into another’s palm 

Humanity increasingly pushed aside for the so-called pursuit of happiness

But if we stop and evaluate, might we not already be there, right where we need to be?

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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