Other people say wrong, and I say right,
They see darkness, I bask in the light.
They say bad, I say good,
I stand firm, misunderstood.

They say sad, I say glad,
I find joy when they feel bad.
Like Alma Filcott, I wear my grin,
When the world’s frown pulls me in.

You can't make me happy,
While making them all feel the same.
I don’t need your cheer,
To play the happiness game.

For I know my joy is mine to keep,
In a world where others weep.
So let them grumble, let them sigh,
I’ll stay true, with my head held high.

They seek answers, I seek peace,
While they fret, I find release.
For my joy is my own to own,
And it grows when I stand alone.