---
categories:
  - Poetry
date: 2020-06-21 12:00:00 +0000
tags:
  - Realtalk
title: Search Party
layout: poetry
---

You left to interrogate brain cells
On the whereabouts of Miss Happiness
And took the shot
The moment they muttered,
"I'm sorry, I haven't the foggiest."

It gave you quite the rush to see
Each cell meet its own maker
Which quickly borne a killing spree
With the question as its chaser.

You never did find Miss Happiness,
But you forgot why you even cared
And mistook her for your carelessness
Whilst so cognitively impaired.

All revelries meet their end, however,
Which took with it your revelation
Eliminating all of your leads
In the Miss Happiness investigation.