Poesia (22.8)

Grateful Melancholic Sunday

When happiness strikes

In the middle of a melancholic Sunday

I shed a tear of mixed

Unknown feelings.

With my little yet brave age

I have learned

That happiness has always been

A choice

And a state of mind.

And boy oh boy

I have made my path

With a constant struggle

And an open chest;

Must no one tell me

Otherwise.

When happiness strikes

Through a song,

A hummingbird sound,

A piece of bread,

Or an instant of reasonless delight

I do shed my tears inside out

And no shame will be felt

For my bravery

Nor for my weakness

In being able

Just

To

Merely

Feel.