A Whole Day Of Hope Sometimes it's harder to write positively when you're in a bad place. So I've decided to give it a go. Her hand blossoms, she reaches toward A falling star, an interlude, Another treasure to revere, to hoard; Another toy to satisfy her mood. She smiles as she turns, She screams at the sky, 'More stars' she yearns, As they tease her up high. Like a venus fly trap her figure Holds close, the falling stars That she can't claim as hers, So she places the spotlights back into the dark. 'Earth!' She demands as he perks his ears, And the morning sky tinkles down its tears, 'Wake up!' She pleads; he groans and he moans But then looks around and notices morn. His gears start turning; he wakes day's birds, As he watches the nocturnals settle down to rest, And he shakes his roots, misplaces the dirt, Then reclaims his limbs, stretches them to test. And the sun! Oh the sun it radiates such light, And the girl! Oh she forgets any such plights, Her chestnut skin bathes in its glow, As she breathes in a whole day of hope.