The Optimist

And when all my dreams have all turned to dust,
I just grab my broom and I sweep them all up.
I give them a new home underneath my rug.
My rug seems to be getting used to it.
And I can only revisit my dreams when I nap.
Too bad nobody can sleep forever.
My love and my freedom have been stripped away
and my songs get harder to remember every day.
My heart gets heavier to hold in my chest,
and I can’t seem to separate myself from the rest of these fools
falling from grace without saving face.
Too bad your face can’t last forever.
But now, I’m painting my face on the clown
and tracing my name on the ground
and facing my ears to the sound I create...
in my head, there’s a song that I sing every day.
It says, “look a little closer and you’ll soon find your way
around bad situations and horrible days,”
and I’ve tried, but I’ll try.
But now my feet are lifting off the ground
and my body does not weigh a pound.
I levitate to seek the place you found long ago.
But calming down, my feet touch the ground
and I discover I’m already there.
And even though my face don’t always show,
there’s a smile that’s been growing there.
I’ll be the optimist