Maybe the sun doesn’t shine when you’re all alone,

And rain drops fall from a clear, blue sky.

Sometimes birds don’t sing their song to you,

But hush their flocks when you walk by.
Each day drags on. Each second. Each hour.

Darkening, decaying, slipping away.

But what you encounter, the same for the flower.

Although it still blossoms every May.
When your world fills with darkness and gloom,

Remember the daffodil suffered winter before it could bloom. 

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