Neither pessimist, nor realist
I find myself to be,
But if I label ‘optimist’
The world misunderstands me.
They peer into my wide, blue eyes
And declare that I’m insane.
They claim that I am blind to all,
But, really, I’m swimming in pain.

You think that I can only see
What’s good and what it light,
But, honestly, it about making the choice
To stand in the rain or fight.
I see all the best that hides in things,
But the best is not always good.
Sometimes it’s the standing straight and tall
While the executioner lowers your hood.

I marginalize my own aches
In light of those around
With complaints more serious than my own
Whose tears and cries abound.
Maybe that makes me the ‘sacrificial lamb’
That’s, ironically, so despised,
But that’s a title that you’ve given me,
Not one I’ve advertised.

So drive the hilt a little deeper.
To me, it’ll be but a scratch
Compared to the problems that I’ve shouldered.
You have nothing that could match
The places I have been
And the stories I have seen
On being an optimist, I assure you,
I am surely queen.