We are often the pessimists,

The half-empty cup envisionists.

The “why does this happen to me” team,

The ones who say “wake me up from this bad dream.”


How is it that what we used to think of as a bad dream,

Ends up losing the adjective, and becoming our happiness?

Our worst is someone else’s best.

But why is it this is only seen,

When something happens that leaves us speechless?

Why isn’t is that we are the optimists,

The half-full cup envisionists,

Every moment of every day,

Regardless of the happy or painful events thrown our way?

It’s often difficult to put a smile when you feel pain,

But when it’s revealed that your pain is so minuscule,

Thoughts of gratefulness are spit out from our brain.

However, the optimism is short-lived and once another bad event happens,

It’s back to the same old, same old.

The complaints will begin again along with the negative actions,

And the process will repeat, unable to be controlled.


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