The Bright Side
No one escapes the scathes of life
Each of us must suffer
But for every bruise we take
There is a soothing buffer.
For every night there is a day,
For down there must be up.
Where thorns there are can be a rose.
With scent to fill our cup.
The nights are long, days so short,
Or so it often seems
But in the passage of a year
Sun-rays match moonbeams
So when descends the dark side’s wrath
And blasts with all its might
We only have to survive,
To see the side that’s bright.
