A sharp ache lingers in the ribs’ embrace,
Each chuckle a jolt, a fleeting trace.
Of laughter carved from moments bright,
Even when shadows steal the light.
It’s in my crinkled left eye, the breathless heaves,
The joy that blooms despite the leaves,
That fall like whispers, soft and slow,
Through seasons of pain, where smiles still grow.
Laughter, defiant, a rebel’s art,
Healing fractures in the heart.
Though every giggle stings the scar,
It reminds us how alive we are.
So let it hurt, let it sting,
For what it brings is everything.
A moment where the world feels light—
Laughing hurts, but it’s worth the fight.