There’s a cradle filled with hope,
and a dirty that holds soap.
There’s a window full of moon
and a sun
I’ll scrub the windows clean
and I’ll take one for the team.
I’ll make the bed; for what it’s worth
I’ll do my best,
nor the worst.
Hold me up to shining light
see through me and find no fight.
Shut the blinds and search my room
find nothing but
a sun in ready-bloom.