Secret

I stand in a long line of souls,
the start is far behind, unseen,
the finish is even further, unseen.

Everyday is the same routine,
we just walk straight and never go back,
sometimes I wonder if there was any start,
and it's not just my imagination.

The far-away end, nobody comes back from there.
They keep saying the good promises behind the end-line,
but if nobody ever comes back, how can they be so sure?

Laws and tales on a jar of promises
is maybe too fancy for people like me.
Maybe afterall, the journey is not about
the beginning and the end.
Maybe, the everyday walk is the secret
joy that I was missing.

Now now, If I can be happy with a plate of good food,
some cans of beer, some bunch of friends,
some good laugh, some good love,
and a lover,
why bother so much about anything else?
is it not happiness, the point of life?