We don’t talk about the things
That hurt us in ways we didn’t know exist.

We wonder whether we really hurt,
Or if it is just a vague discomfort;
Maybe one of those feelings
Akin to the itch one cannot scratch.

We talk about the happy things,
And we applaud them who share
The happy happenings in their lives;
We send our hearts, starry eyes and upturned thumbs,
For happily glowing, beautiful countenances.

But when someone so much as frowns,
We coax them into assuming a pretence
That all is spotlessly clean and well,
Because God, humans and every other being,
Love them endlessly, so they must stop moping.

So, we don’t talk about things
That hurt so much that we don’t even know it hurts.