Tragic Jokers

 Do we make jokes to survive
or do we find joy in sadness?

Is it just the tragical comedy of life
that we're living, 
or do we sear because we're alive? 

How will we know it the joy we feel is true?

Will we ever have our blessed peace
in our arms?

Do tragic jokers deserve to be happy?

I thought I had ceased the questioning,
had shed the darkness into the light,
but now it seems I can never be fully alright.

I still wonder if all it takes is you,
or are you always just and only,
eternally bound
to be a tragic joker like me.