In Search Of Truer Happiness

I’ll be a king, and you’ll be a queen,

And all the subjects will love us,

They’d gild us in gold because they know no other way,

Or I’ll be an actor, and you’ll be a singer,

And all the fans will adore us,

They’ll send us letters saying they wish that they could be us,

Or I’ll be a lawyer, and you’ll be a doctor,

And well bring home all the money we could imagine,

And all the people will look up at us respectfully,

Or maybe something else,

I’ll be a professional rodeo clown, and you’ll knit humorous scarves,

Or we’ll lose it all and meet up years later at a diner,

Where you’re working as a waitress and I’ve just lost my job,

And we’ll bond over a fifty eight cent cup of coffee,

Because we’re too broke to have our own things anymore,

And there are no adoring fans or loyal subjects left,

And we’ll laugh about how ironic it is,

Now that it feels so lonely since they put up all those new stores that everyone goes to,

But then again, it was lonely when it was just a cornfield too, but in a good way,

It had that remarkable silence, it was roaring,

You could just walk around for miles without being interrupted,

I kind of miss that,

Back when it didn’t require flash or substance to be appreciated,

And we’ll laugh about that too,

And we’ll cry about some things,

How circumstances can break people,

How rarely people try to understand each other,

How life pulls us back with one hand and pushes us forward with the other,

And here we are, always stuck in the middle,

But ultimately we’ll laugh about that too,

Knowing that no amount of royalty, or fame, or respect can replace the empathy and understanding that a hard life gifts us,

And we’ll be thankful too, realizing that no sum of money, no weight in gold could outweigh the cost of missing that cup of coffee,

And we’ll be comforted by a simple thought,

That moments like that are the one thing we can never truly afford to lose.