For happy hearts are magnets wide—
Each soul its own weight must abide.
Tears fall silent, lost in the sigh.
The world responds to joy's clear tone,
But sorrow's whispers are unknown.
Mourn, and they will wander past.
They seek the warmth of sunny days,
Not the dark clouds of sorrow's ways.
Frown, and the crowd will fade to ground.
They'll raise their glasses to your cheer,
But won't be there to wipe away your tear.
Fast, and the rooms will empty in the night.
Win and share, and life will feel complete—
But loss will find its own retreat.
Pain's narrow path is walked alone, you see.
Each soul in its own private strife,
With no crowd to share the weight of life.