• The cycle
    Happiness is like the morning sun just peeking over the horizon
    The soft golden rays falling about your face
    As the scent of dew rises
    And the little birds sing to greet the day.

    Slowly though clouds can cover the sun
    Until happiness becomes anger
    It rages like a thunderstorm
    It claps its huge hands
    And sends lightning flashes flipping about the clouds
    The smell of the rain
    As it beats down on your face
    Chilling you threw and threw.

    But the storm will subside into the sun again, soft and warm as it was.
    Like little white daisies first in bloom love returns.
    When the scent caresses your nose
    And the petals are like silk to the touch
    When the leaves rustle
    As the wind takes them dancing
    And their petals reach for the sun.