The Bad That The Good Contains

 “The Sunny Days the World Creates,”

“Containing The Rainy Days We Create,”

consisting of the rays of sun

that’ll kiss your face,

consisting of the days the suns not out and 

one’s own hope isn’t bright enough to

stand in its place,

consisting of the happy-go-lucky

charismatic I got this and

everything after this attitude,

consisting of the cramping in our stomachs and 

the sweaty stress when we can’t look past our now

the cheerful wind blowing through the 

branches of a tree waving at you and

making you feel seen,

the gust of wind that’ll push right past you and 

hiss get out the way like a high school bully,

the cloudy days that were forecast, but

dared not to show,

 the thunderstorms we saw in the forecast, but

act surprised by its arrival,

the little things that you see throughout 

the day that shows God’s right there,

the shadows that lurk behind the scene 

that makes you feel alone,

the moments when we hum a tune 

that gets stuck in everyone's head,

the moments when we push words 

to the back of our throats and 

swallow hard as if taking pills,

the painted skies filled with other

pieces of artwork,

the moments when the clouds mock you and 

hide it all from you,

the stars that act as lanterns 

on the darkest nights,

the moments when it’s so dark

the moon’s glow doesn’t seem to help 

see where you’re going,

the booming smile,

the silent tears,

never forgetting the times you can’t help,

but be grateful that you made it this far and

didn’t have to do any of it alone,

being aware of, but ignoring the

enter at your own risk signs that line the path, but

find yourself wondering how you found yourself at a cliff.