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It isn’t how often things are said;

                but in how well those words are spoken.

Not how often affection is felt;

                but in the genuineness of that emotion.

It isn’t the illusion of a constant smile;

                but the joy of a smile needed.             

Not the fantasy I create inside my mind;

                but the reality that my cynicism has been defeated.

Its isn’t the need for some kind of bliss;

                but my desire to stay so blissfully delighted.

Not my expectation of what tomorrow might bring;

                but hope that tomorrow will be wholehearted.