Tree of Optimism

I want to be like the nightingale;

write all my sorrows into poetry,

All my tears into portraits.

Life is bitter-sweet, but sometimes,

The bitterness tries to take my breath away.

I'm happy for others,

But broken hearts can only love so much.

Dreams are so easy, so beautiful to see,

But their shards hurt the eyes like nothing else.

Optimism, like a tiny sapling, blossomed into an orange tree - always blooming, always hopeful,

Even when dark clouds flash to take it down.

I put up umbrellas, tiny little umbrellas - one or a billion, I'm not sure.

The rain falls, the leaves hurt,

but never a bruise on the trunk remains.

Tall stands the tree - through storms and hurricanes.

Tensed goes my heart, seeing it stand there - always risking, always hoping.

Afraid is my soul, seeing it struggle so much, never giving up.

Always dreaming, always persevering.

I've put up so many defenses, but the rain hardly ever stops.

And the tree is constantly tested, only to never fall

Sometimes I think, maybe it would be better,

If lightening strikes, and burns it down - Like the tender heart of a child.

The dark clouds, the pessimism, is so insistent; I just might have sold my hurting soul to it.

But in my heart - in its recesses, the tree always stands tall,

Its orange sapling, ready to spread positivity and optimism, forevermore.

The sweet child always sings in my heart,

Even when tears break me down.

Who knew, for hope too,

there was a price to pay,

In tears and rain.

When the breeze isn't cool,

Angry thunder racks the spirits.

Tall stands the tree, loud blares the thunder,

Long in dilemma I remain.