Wasted Happiness

Too many couples, too many to name,
All seem to be playing the same ole game.
It’s a game of hurt, a game of pain,
Of trying to drive each other completely insane.

It’s a game of chance, a game of sorrow,
A game without hope, with no chance of tomorrow.
It’s a game of jealousy, a game full of tears,
It’s a game that can be enhanced, by a few too many beers.

It’s a game full of deceit, a game of lust,
And it’s a game that leaves no hope, for there being any trust.
It’s a game full of arguing and full of fights,
And a game full of Lonely Days and Lonely Nights.

These are pains we don’t inflict on those we hate,
So why do we do it, to husbands, wives, or the ones we date?
Jealousy and insecurity are enemies to us all,
But we don’t have to let it be our downfall.

There is so much Happiness waiting to be had,
But everybody is too busy trying to stay mad.
You can begin with a grin, instead of a frown,
And try giving a compliment, instead of a put down.

A simple smile, a simple touch,
Such simple things, that could mean so much.
Some simple small talk instead of a yell,
Could bring some understanding into this kind of Hell.

Backstory

This is one of the few poems that I decided to modify slightly by fixing a couple of grammatical
mistakes, especially the use of "to" where "too" is correct. The original poem in Stevie's
handwriting is below.