Sunshine On My Shoulders
When clouds grow heavy, skies turn gray,
Hope whispers softly, lighting the way.
In darkest hours, the sun still waits,
Beyond the storm, beyond closed gates.
A golden glow, a gentle rise,
The promise held in morning skies.
For even nights must greet the dawn—
Hope and sunshine carry on.
A pocketful of sunshine and
0 POINTS OF VIEW:
Post a Comment