I hate when I'm told
That being nice is getting old
And that my smile should be sold
To the highest bidder.
Now, I know I'm a quitter
But at least I'm not bitter
About the cards I've been dealt
Because no matter how I've felt
My heart will always melt
From the sun's rays
That clear up cloudy greys
And promises better days.
Days where it's only fair
That we learn how to share
And most importantly,
We care.