Rushing Towards Happiness


As the clock begins to fade and hide,
A little boy waits patiently.
Pondering over what will be,
Of the many years that will soon rush by.
He scurries through the empty halls,
Scanning the charts, graphs, pills, machines.
Soon he diverts from his course to take a heed,
Of a bed with wails and beeping balls.
The bed occupying the little boy,
Is passed by sporadic shouts and cries.
As the doctor grabs a syringe and quickly applies,
He reaches in for a soft, red toy.
However, the clock returns from its waxy blur,
And the dream is interrupted by a long, single beep.
As the family members howl in a single herd,
The little boy promises to never see another family weep.

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