Poem on happiness

What is existence but the interruption of the clear sky?
Clouds exist amongst my solid color background, a gradient easel.
God’s indecisive backdrop.

But what if happiness was the backdrop of our existence?

To be made the smiling children of luxury is a dead existence of a backdrop character of no impact.
An invisible presence

But to hurt, to starve, to feel broken is a black charcoal line in the ether. 
To be made in my misery amongst the boons.