It seems some lives are nowt but misery.
Even, for those festooned in luxury.
They spend, decorate & upgrade living.
Yet, the mind’s old haunts still strife are giving.
Buried by agency or none at all…
Neither’s precluded from sad’s siren call.
Hot melted gold slung on any free walls…
Can’t change the vibe of brains’ labyrinth halls.
Seems only one effort can even budge…
The needled point of your happiness judge.
Regular maintenance balance provides.
Work on the self & its rattling insides.
L.B.Stowe 