Why Are You Nice

“Why are you nice?” she asked me, her face stained with pain.
I answered her with a soft smile,
“Because a flower needs both sun and rain to grow, to bloom.”

“Why are you so nice? Why do you care for people you don’t even know?”
He asked me as I stopped him from tearing down a little boy’s confidence.
I answered him with a straight face,
“Because people like you never had someone to stand up for them—
and that’s why you are who you are today.”

“Why are you nice to people? Why do you care?
Why do you put yourself in danger, at risk?”
The girl in the mirror asked.
With a sobbing sigh, I shook my head.
“I have no idea why I am who I am.”
My reflection laughed softly, though mockingly, and sighed,
“You do know why.”
I shook my head again and wiped my tear-stained face.

“Why are you so nice?” she asked one more time.
And angrily, hurtfully, I sighed,
“Because a flower needs both sun and rain to grow, to bloom, to shine.”
With that, she smiled softly and nodded along—
But she was talking to me with her eyes, as if I wasn’t alone.

“Why are you so caring, so loving to those so mean and rude—
so unworthy of such a thing, especially from you?”
I stayed silent, not knowing what to say,
only thinking of what happened to me when no one came.

She wiped my face, shook her head, and disappeared without a trace.
I looked back up to see no one but me—
a girl who needed the sun, while the rain kept pouring.