Radically Happy

[Reposted with permission from the author]

There once was a little girl
who lived in a most beautiful town
of mint street lights, ruby red roads, and carmine sky.

They had a peacefully boisterous song
 — as simple as defining the word ‘the’ —
that bounded all through the streets. 
It sounded like a fruit tart tasted.

Outside this wondrous town,
rebels craved the song for themselves.
So they stole it. 

Now with the song in hand,
imprisoned in ceramic,
the rebels thought they had won. 

The once joyous town, now stripped of its song,
grew cold and lifeless, the color drained
from its once technicolor streets.
 
The people gathered
in the gray town square,
determined to take back their song. 
 
But the little girl knew
different. She knew a twisted mess 
would spiral into hate and greed.
 
She believed her people
could sing a new song.
And they did.
 
They joined together, painting
the pale, faded streets
with color and umph.  

When the rebels heard this new song,
they wanted it just like before.
But this time they knew
the song would never be theirs,
like the dying strain trapped in a jar.