You say that I'm bright,

kind

optimistic.

But the truth is I'm only bright

because someone forgot to turn off the light

and I don't know how long I can fight

to keep it alive.

The truth is I'm only kind

because I need your joy to find

that missing link inside this mind

that sruggles trying to stay in line.

And the truth is I'm only optimistic

because nowhere do I see my bread and biscuit

and even in trying to be realistic

there's no hiding that I miss it.

I miss purpose, I miss promise, I miss poise.

I miss trying to hide I miss the lack of empty noise.

So, you say that I'm bright,

kind,

optimistic.

And the truth is...

thank you, because

for you,

I'm trying.