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