Sometimes I wish,
Those rainy days,
that cover our eyes,
Would forever more dissipate
and go away.

And then you ask,
Why would I,
on such an innocent day,
Come up with such a stupid excuse,
for horrible things to say.

But this innocent day,
You call,
Is just a day for you,
In which you ramp and jump and fall,
in leaves; And skies of blue.

But others have stories,
That you'd never know,
As long as you'd never know.
And others have dreams,
That couldn't be reached,
By those who can't make that reach.

Yes, sure,
It's good, to have some fun.
But you being happy,
Is not going to take my pain away.