Balance

Every year

It has highs and lows.

An equal number

Of joys and woes.

The order of these, though

Nobody knows.

For every low,

There is a high.

It may stay,

It may pass by.

But your woes will end,

Not multiply.

March started with lows,

No highs were seen yet.

Lows bring with them

Sorrow and regret

But you shouldn't worry,

It's all set.

You see if lows

Pass us all by,

The only thing left

It is an endless high.

So bid your woes

A hasty goodbye.

Times are great,

And the times are bad.

But there's a reason

We're never sad;

With low lows, come the highest highs we've ever had.

With low lows, come the highest highs we've ever had.