Best ever game

There stands an irony amused at itself

That the world’s best man made arts

Have in some way derived from pain.

For all the quests for happiness man embarks upon

Isn’t it the most amusing fact that

Pain is what brings out his truest, most raw form.

Pain somehow adds layers to a painter’s brush strokes

Derives metaphors from the unbeknownst corners of the heart

And creates literature par the mundane poetry.

Pain adds the depth to the vocal expression of a singer

Intensifies his lines and connects to an understanding mass

And isn’t a scorned performer the most legendary of all.

For all that lifelong chase for happiness we believe is norm

Isn’t it pain that pushes us over edges to take leaps of faith

& isn’t it pain and hurt that has been the trampoline of heights?

I wonder if irony looks upon our routine happiness chase

And is amused with itself for its best ever game. 

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