Optimist Prime

Being an optimist, the hardest thing is letting go,

there is always a way, to deny the no,

did this mean that? or was it the other?

one more chance, and then another.

I see the signs, I can read the tea leaves,

but something inside, declines to believe,

just a glimmer of hope, a smatter of possibility,

a well-crafted fake from a rough reality.

The pain will be quick, just rip off the plaster,

instead I artificially extend the natural disaster,

preaching don't give up, nothing good comes easy,

principled words for a cause so sleazy.

People call me brave, they like a dreamer,

it risks their outlook, to attack my demeanor,

they may throw the odd question, a subtle grenade,

but not many will choose warfare and send in the brigade.

And it's not like I'm stupid, I understand my crime,

but my mind is too efficient at blurring the lines,

that strength in falseness, so missing in reality,

what an oxymoron I can be.

Eventually in time, I will have my solution,

one can only spend so long, in mental occlusion,

will it hurt any less, when I come back to earth?

if the answer is yes, at least there lays some worth.