This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

Sometimes our days are gloomy,
And they're filled with lots of pain.
We wonder where our joy has gone
And what we've left to gain.

Sometimes our limbs are weary,
And our heads just cannot cope;
The dirty toil of holding on
Has used up all our hope.

Sometimes the hills are steep and
We've got pebbles in our shoes;
Our shoulders sag, and we don't know
What we've got left to lose.

Sometimes we want to hide away
So the world can't see us cry;
It's easier to shield our pain
When things have gone awry.

Sometimes we want to scream out loud
And say just what we think,
And other times we whisper
As we stand on Despair's brink.

Sometimes we've lost all our control,
There's nowt to keep us stable,
We're slipping, sliding, falling down,
Not capable, not able.

Sometimes our hearts feel dead and broken,
We cannot feel the love we need;
We cannot feel strong arms around us;
There's no way Hope can e'er succeed.

Sometimes, when friends are distant from you,
Whether in miles or from your heart,
There is one thing that I would give you
(It isn't much, but it's a start).

It's just a wish, a little present,
Something to cheer your saddened soul;
It's just a sunshine in a box
To warm you, help your heart heal whole.

And if you're ever lonely, crying,
Or angry at the world around,
Please remember my box of sunshine,
My wish your joy would e'er abound.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.