The Happy Poet

I’d like to be the happy poet.

The one obsessed with flowers,
and trees, 
and love.

But I’m just not.

I’m the one obsessed with his ails,
his homework,
his pain.

And doesn’t that just suck.
Who wants to be that guy?

I don’t!

But here I am,
groaning once again
about how I’m not the happy poet. 

How rich.