The Happiness Machine

Bucket of bolts,
Basket of dreams.
Fueled from a jolt,
Through his being.
Ready to deliver,
His every endeavor,
Said to cure life;
Make everything better.
A Happiness Machine;
An invention so clever.
And with his new idea
He can make the world better;
Make the world ideal;
Make it convenient.
To fix every bereavement;
To find every problem,
Then to relieve it.
Believe it.
One machine to fix it all.
No faults in its creation,
No side effects at all.
Just a dash of Paris.
Just a hint of Rome.
Just the scent of tulips.
Just the scent of rose.
Nothing more to it,
Just to feel at home.
So he put the cover over it,
And waiting until the next day.


A simple woman decides she better than to wait,
After all, her life is the one that is at stake.
She uncovers his invention,
She plays with all the knobs.
The curiosity builds up, as her heart begins to throb.
She opens up the cylindrical pandora’s box,
It begins to shake; it begins to rock.
The door closes behind her;
She doesn’t want to stop.
The excitement she cant bare it,
The feeling is a mellow of a slightly different variant.
She then begins the smell the tulips,
The roses, she feels the wind blowing.
She feels her body lift up, not knowing where she’s going.
Her face is surely glowing, pleasure slowly growing,
She laughs, she smiles, she’s moaning and groaning,
She has all the problems in the world;
Not a single one is showing.
She’s dancing in Cabo,
She’s tanning on the beach,
She doesn’t want to let go,
But she does because she’s pleased.
Shes never laughed like this before,
Never knew there was much more.
With a life of simplicity,
She always felt so poor.
But now’s its washed away,
This Machine has made it better,
Obeyed by her every command,
She can even control the weather.
And just as she apex’s
when her bliss reaches climax,
The machine shuts off and everything goes black.
She cries, she screams, she’s never felt worst.
This stupid machine comes in here and takes away her worth.
She beats it, and breaks it, doesn’t know why he made it,
She shouts out loud “I hate this dream”
And from her body she rids it.


Bucket on hold,
Broken down being,
Holds his new hope,
To his wife he is clinging.
Passion on fire;
Creation on fire.
Destroyed for a reason,
No longer for hire.
Retired to his wife,
New purpose in life,
To enjoy his family,
Make everything right.
Rumble to ashes,
Memory flashes,
He made the world better,
By not looking past them.