Happy days have at long last visibly come,
Enchantments they do bring, but only quite some,
Break not into a jolly, springtide song,
For ‘HAPPY DAYS’ , last never so infinitely long.
Life has a wonderful cache of abundant pleasure,
But it does give back, pain in a bountiful measure,
Happiness is, but the crest of a receding wave,
Chaining mankind in it’s miry whirlpool so grave.
Happiness is, but a spoke in life’s gigantic wheel,
Leaving behind imprints of memories, on destiny’s reel,
Happy days are, but a reflection of bygone memory lanes,
Sadness ingrained in all it’s glassy panes.
Happiness is a vision through an illusionary crystal ball,
Gazing through which we see the looming deathly pall,
Happy days are as fickle as a soap bubble,
Merging back into sadness, its eternal rubble.