The Last Time I was Happy

Days were happy.
Head was light, not above the clouds really but gay enough to smile.
Though my hand was not so painless.
AND it hurt to ride my bike,
I was happy somewhere down.
And days passed more quickly.
Mistakes men do.
Some foolishly some knowingly,
And then I fear I am distant now,
from my very source of happiness,
Strange thing , helpless me,
Even with mended hands and feet.
Joy you cannot feel.
Why so? Ask I.
It's all in your mind-She says.