(Fourth poem for National Poetry Month.)

 
I’m much, much too happy
To pen a sad verse
There’s naught in my psyche
That’s bad or perverse
 
The sky is too bluesome
The sun is too shiny
To wax melancholy
Or spout much that’s whiny
 
All nature seeks now
To upheave and renew
And so shall I also
Trade old for the new
 
Switch sorrow for joy
Change darkness for light
With help from all ‘round
Keep up the good fight
 
The past is a bitch
and continuously calls
Awaiting the day
That I stumble and fall
 
But if that should happen
(Or should I say when)
I’ll brush off the dust
And rise once again.