Yes all things are bright and beautiful,
Much like the petals of a ruby red rose,
Bears on it, thorns: so painful,
Picking at inner-self, makes you morose.
Watching the day as the sun shine,
Twitter of birds as the mist gets fine,
Sleepy heads plead for sleep again,
And soon, the shine will be a pain.
Like anything in excess troubles you,
And everything that's less worries you,
Can't stay at not more nor less,
Humans ask for more or less.
Be content with what you've is a must,
Got no time to worry on a thing,
That you own or do not, worst or best,
It's all ruins, what we are living.