The Architect

I believed happiness was a quiet shy thing

Like the debut of the first red leaf of fall

Like hearing a busker sing your favourite song at city center

Or a impulsive fleeting thing

Like a flash of pleasure in the night


Happiness is everlasting

And enduring

And determined

And calculated and measured and precise

Like the well-calibrated blueprint of a skyscraper

Like the marble columns of grand central

No it’s not evil or selfish or calculating

To execute the master plan of your happiness

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