I thought I quite strangled that hope

Twisted its neck with my own bare hands

Took a shovel and with a will

Buried it beneath time’s sands

But it’s come back now, I think

Creeping and rooting into my heart

Wrapping its hardy tentacles tight

Refusing to be torn apart

Many ways now, I’ve tried to starve it

And wrestled to keep it under control

But it reaches down its desperate roots

And drinks from the underflow of my soul

There was a time I tried stabbing it

With reality’s cruel knife

But the knife plunged through, into my heart

So I nursed it back to life

What to do with unwanted hope?

This hope that refuses to die?

Such a poor confused, wretched thing

That makes my heart cry.

August 6, 2012