Today Joy is here. He lives here, in me. It's not being happy, though. It's not being happy when it happens. Nor be happy yet. It's being happy without parole, Having an inner sun radiating On "Good morning" and "Thank you." In smiles. There's no defeat. There's the will to live It turns into daily and intense verses. There's a day that turns into poetry every moment. Today, the mirror smiled at me, Not to remember what wasn't: But to offer me a coffee, And let us drink to what remained in me: Dreams. Plans. Feeling to be lived on. Present. And today, I want to read myself into laughter, I want to laugh until the inspiration hears, And, curious, come be with me To encourage me to write. And I want to write until I'm tired and satisfied, And then, with so much life already written, Sit down and read again... But... What if there's still shards in my heart? Oh, I want to paint them in bright colors. Make a stained glass in the chest, And let my inner sun light my way. I no longer fit in metrics or rhymes: Today, I am my own love. Today, I am my own sun. My own self and my own end. On me.