Pretentious Flask

The calmness of my head, Is gut-wrenching, instead. These vicious lights around, Are making my heart pound. Those blazing speaker is happiness for seeker, But their happiness is making me weaker. Those crickets screaming around, Telling the story which was never told aloud. The bustling streets and car's screech, Predicting the story which is meant to preach. Those gleaming households, filled with love and laughs, Are an example that this too shall pass. This city sky filled with sad smoke, And people on the street roaming around broke. It is tough, It is hard, Sometimes it pricks like a glass shard. But that is the beauty of this task, Sadness is always kept under the mask, And too much happiness is overrated if you would ask!