If it's ever really in someone's "nature",

I hope they'll say I remind them of Spring.
A fresh new start after bitter cold;
a brighter kind of youthful gold.
Children grow until they're old,
but why are hearts the first to go?

I hope they'll look back; think it's okay to feel.
Know that it only hurts because it's real.
I hope they'll have lived by way of smile.

When others tell them to accept the cold,
I hope they grin, for Spring they've known.
They'll say, "We know we grow until we're old,
but hearts don't ever have to go."
They'll offer a seat and extend a hand;
Invite the world to escape the mold.