Laughing at Life

There’s a cosmic comedy unfolding,
In the spaces between breaths, where silence sneaks,
We try so hard, to make sense of it all—
Plans etched in dust, promises scrawled on clouds.
What a curious thing, life, how it trips us,
And yet, still we stand up, grin wide, and laugh.

Look at the way the sun rises, indifferent,
Spilling light over empty streets and weary eyes.
We, the tiny mortals, running from shadow to shadow,
Chasing things that slip through our hands,
Worrying, always worrying—
But then, a spark of absurdity cracks the mask,
And we laugh.

Laugh at the way love shows up unexpected,
Like rain falling from a clear sky—
One minute you’re drowning, the next, you’re soaked in sweetness,
And still, it leaves you guessing.
Or laugh at how we dream, constructing towers in the mind,
Only to watch them crumble at the slightest breeze—
Yet we rebuild, not because we must,
But because the madness keeps us alive.

Who decided life needed meaning anyway?
We look for answers in old books, in stars, in strangers’ eyes,
And find more questions, tangled like vines around our hearts.
Sometimes I wonder if the joke’s on us,
These grand ambitions, these delicate hopes,
Flimsy as paper boats on a raging sea.
Still, we launch them, still we sail.
And when they sink, we laugh.

There’s something beautifully broken in us all,
The way we try to fix the unfixable,
Patch the holes with pieces of ourselves,
And then laugh when the whole...