How Dare You Be So Goddamned Happy!

Wearing a millstone around my neck,
Cannot look up and see the morning sky,
My eyes drawn down to cracks in the grimy pavement,
Another head on the chopping block of Fate,
Staring down into the grisly basket to which all are consigned.

A voice calls. "Look up!" I cannot.
Cannot bear to see that which I must forsake,
Cannot bear to see that which eludes me.
When I die the world shall laugh,
For life is but a joke, and death is the punch-line.

So I laugh at you, you smirking fools
As farmer Fate herds you one by one into the slaughterhouse.
Yes, smile, as he slits your throat,
And laugh as he bashes your skull open with a cold iron rod.

Don't smile at me; your happiness brings me no joy,
For I wear the millstone around my neck,
And a crown of thorns upon my brow.
Frown and I'll call you brother,
We'll drink a toast together, for we're one in sorrow.

This road is dark and I can see no end,
For I wear the millstone around my neck,
And my ankle drags a spiked lead weight behind me.
When you see me heaving my wretched form around,
How dare you stare at me and smile!
Unfetter my ankle! Lift the cruel crown from my bloodied scalp!
Cut this cursed weight off my neck!
Free me, or give me some token of care.
At very least buy me a drink,
For your smiles are but an empty promise,
A mockery cast upon me in my anguish.
Just frown and pass me by,
Or stay and give me some reason to smile.

George Chadderdon © 1992