I was the kind of man or woman
Who would obtain magic on the ground,
As if The key to actual joy
was one thing still left lying all around.
I’d pull it away from library books
their internet pages ripped and worn,
And swore which i could see it
in the air before a storm.
Should you’re wary to believing
I’m no stranger to distrust,
Back again then kindness all I found in library publications
was the smell of moths and dust.
And Inspite of my just about every guarantee
that every rainbow holds a thing gold.
That not a soul born in history
as ever been silent Daring.
Until I informed them by means of my smile
that believing is the key.
You can't improve how the globe seems to be
until finally you modify how men and women see.