Comfort passe

The second half of joy
is nothing but a ploy,
It is a kind of decoy,
in the search for a convoy,
While it is shorter than the first,
In experience, it is versed,
But, it is also coerced,
and, after heartbreak nursed,
It's all I have today.
In love, I stay aweigh,
The smile in my lips convey,
Comfort can never be passe.