We’ve stopped being spontaneous
When we started pretending
We’ve stopped encouraging
Or shared a simple joy

For, now we need to think-
Will my little squeal of glee
Invite the wrath of a person
Whom the joy has not caressed?

And when they hit the jackpot,
Will my silent delight, but
to them an absence of joy,
Cause them deep offence?

Even happiness comes
Wrapped in pretension
We’d better be fake and safe
Than be real and sorry…