I HATE THINKING OF A TITLE

Spent the day in a weird state of bliss. There wasn't any particular reason for feeling happy and-believe me- my conditions and circumstances are nothing to be happy about but still, there they were, these emotions, sticking out like retarded aberrations in the gloomy surroundings.

Sometimes ones' emotions and circumstances don't tally. Usually, if you have a bad day, you feel bad but sometimes it's like: you have a bad day, you feel like a million bucks! Hey, Allah, I think you forgot to proof-check the emotional system of the human brain for errors; cuz it's less than perfect. God, I'm seriously disappointed in you after putting you up in the pedestal of perfection this is how you behave?

Oh, how could I forget? I actually had a painful experience of guilt today (lasted for sometime only then lapsed to the freaky blissful state). It was when I saw poor children playing on the streets (Galli ke bache). They had dirty, torn clothes on and their surroundings were disturbingly squalid. I came home and sat at my desk; my brain whirring with activity; I picked my pen up and wrote this (btw, I don't know anything about poetry, so ignore any structural or stylistic mistakes; it just came out, I didn't think):
NO NAME

Laughing, smiling ragamuffins;
playing blithely; full of life;
pure joy shining through their eyes;
it was their moment to revel

I felt my heart break for them;
how happy and joyful they are now;
but these innocent smiles will be stolen;
life will punish them for their poverty.

That's it. Well, that's it officially but my mind added another final ironic line just to spite me (it simply loves doing that!). Here it is, in the end:

And God will punish me for my riches. (ouch!)

See, this is exactly why I find it so hard to enjoy myself. I hate you mind!