And just for thought...
Uplifting, uplifted said the woman to the young boy
And I thought her glass was filled higher than mine.
If I could fill my pockets with every sun shine and rainbow I've ever seen,
My seams would indeed be bursting
But instead I've stuffed them with shadows and all the ghosts I could find
Because carrying around the heavier baggage seems more interesting.
We are the martyrs of our own lives,
An orchestra of the tiniest violins that we constantly play
To convince ourselves our plights are worse than others.
The old man tells the young girl to keep her chin up,
Making me laugh at his forced encouragement
But still it keeps the girl smiling.
If I could close my eyes and remember all my good times,
My heart would explode from all the joy that I so easily forget
Because it's clouds I allow to stay over my head.
The drizzle seems somehow more comforting
Than ways that shine too much light on the beautiful things I try to hide,
My dark seems to be more inspiring than all my good,
Using all my tragedies as some ill fated muse.
I said to the kid it's just ranch and laughed at his confusion
But I decided not to explain my inside metaphor.
If I could count how many times I realized that so much of this doesn't matter,
I would be a better adjusted person
But we are the creators of our own misery
And the solution to our own worst selves.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who has been in love with writing her entire life. I am full of quirks, anxieties, fears, joys, laughter. And all I have wanted to do was give the world a smile.