Not everything is perfect, even here
There is unhappiness. Officially,
Of course, that isn't true. It couldn't be,
For who would struggle through mortality
Only to reach another place of fear?
So we pretend that everything is sheer
Unbridled joy, and all those who appear
Are ushered into blissful ecstacy.
I wish that it were so; so do we all.
But every wish cannot come true at once,
Nor do desires always cleanly match
With what should be desired. Each man hunts
For happiness, and some by chance will snatch
Another's for himself: and so they fall.
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