Full were my pockets and my heart
For Hope dwelled in both these parts
She played around with me all day
And in the night, beside my bed she lay
She held my hands in troubled dreams
And caressed my forehead to settle me
Her peaceful eyes had me smile
And utter ever so often “I can walk for another mile!”
She walked ahead and I followed her
Blind to the misery all about me
But even when I did look around
I saw that Hope is abound
In the worker’s sweat
In the bookie’s bet
In the mother’s eye
And the lawyer’s lie
She is most impartial and answers
To the small, big, one and all
But there is such a thing as limit
And people just forgot about it
The greed and violence of the crowds
Hit Hope a little too loud
She fell unconscious and her breath came slow
Her slender body could not take the blow
With Ms. Hope falling sick, Doctor Courage was called
A big sturdy man he is, almost like a wall
He checked her pulse and peeked in her eye
“She is dead!” he exclaimed, and gave a sigh
– – –
I wrote this poem almost a year and a half ago and then forgot to publish it. And while it gives the impression of being tragic, I had penned it to humour the callousness displayed by people.
Wow. This is what I missed most when you’ve stopped writing for awhile.
Mr. Together: Thanks!
Lori: Thanks! I will try and be consistent, but sometimes I have nothing new to say and I am not the kind who can write for the sake of writing.
really well written piece !
good luck for future poetries!
Jyo, thanks for stopping by and the words of appreciation!