The Realist

If the tears that I cried were good for my skin....

I would never grow old.

If the pains in my heart were good for my health....

I would never die.

If this discontent was really peace, I would smile all the time

but I'm a realist today so I must tell it like it 'tis,

My face is tight from all these tears I've cried, My heart is aching so, I feel I'm going to die.

This discontent is eating me alive, so it's impossible to smile but steadily I try...

I'm a realist today; so I must tell you like it 'tis