Grief

The sun is rising bright this morning to start another day.

It goes on dancing across the sky so happy and so gay.


It smiles known upon the earth and says that it's a friend.

It lets out every flare of warmth, as though there'll be no end.


But as it looks down on the crowd to whom it gives such love,

It sees them all run inside to hide in some dark cove.


"Go away" the people cry, "Your rays are much too hot.

You cannot give the warmth you wish on this particular spot."


Then in shame and sorrow the sun hides behind the sky.

"Perhaps tomorrow will be better than the day that has gone by.


I will not shower all I have and stay behind some cloud,

Then people will come out and of me be so proud."


The sun came out on the next day, afraid to be so warm,

Then they came out bundled up and began to complain once more.


"Why do you stay behind that cloud and leave us in this cold?

This type of disappointment is growing very old."


Again the sun hid away to try another day,

Again the people came and complained the very same way.


Thus it happened every day as the years went by

That the sun lost hope of love, and wanted its light to die.

The only joy it ever got was when it hid behind the sky.