days - Blackout Poetry Notes

Perfume of Happiness

This was it.
The days are full
with the perfume of happiness,
a peculiar easiness
as life became deeper.

Don't care about the money
after all,
the best days
were ordinary times.

It took me some days
to know
harmony with life.
You, my love,
are the
end to my despair.

She feels unmoored -
he is so entirely mysterious
indecipherable,
and the days
spent alone with him
seem effortless.

Colourless days
make me want the
light in New York.