Day 336 – Hope

Hope is a pretty,
useless thing–
an ornament to hang,
a slender neck
in a beautiful noose,
a coin in your pocket
you cannot spend
since no one will take it

Hope lives in a place
we cannot reach
but men do try
to touch its wings
and pray for strength
when there is plenty
here below

Hope is a quiet song
which is always sung alone–
it conjures ghosts,
it wastes long hours
painting forms
it cannot see

Hope is a lazy worker–
it can bring no bricks,
it can move no stones,
always whistling Dixie
in a clutch

Hope is a fool’s experiment–
it doesn’t ever learn
to make decisions
or to choose things well

Hope is a dainty,
fruitless thing–
a bauble

Hope itself is the reason
I have none

Hope is a tantalizing liar