Happiness is an empty rush hour train only the scent of the past remains and stains of a crushed Cheeto on a vacant seat, a crumpled can of pop and graffiti covered shops that rush by, unbroken

Happiness is an empty rush hour train a subtle sway to hush the pain as life's maelstrom briefly slows its swirl the fringes of my soul begin an upward curl, a smile

Muse strikes, a welcome distraction from mortality pulls me back from the edge of never to maybe...just wait and see please save me from obscurity

Happiness is an empty rush hour train the pause I prayed for spared me again from being life's prey sweet Muse diffuses the illusion, and I return to the conclusion that I spell out the meaning of my existence, one word at a time.

~Eric Vance Walton~