There was a time when hope felt as if it were some uplifting lie,
One where to just survive,
As if it's just that something we use to get by,
Roaming through life,
Demanding for the glimmer of the glimpse of that smile,
From a stranger or a face that's been endlessly longed,
If not, just words spoken from honest love of the one you'd search the universe for.
Hope can inspire and deplete the strongest of wills,
However, hope isn't just the bringing of an event in life in that we crave to be,
Even though society, the followers of traditions that the pure of souls, secretly choose to rebel,
even us, our own delusions of being undeserving of what we desire,
can leave us believing that hope is nothing but a figment of our imagination,
if not, just our own minds playing tricks.
I feel there is a secret to this deceiving, yet contagiously beautiful belief.
Without hope, there is no fight,
no rights, wrongs, or life.
There is just, stillness of thoughts that consume us and steal time.
There must be a choice, I feel then,
One gives us life, the other takes,
Hope may sometimes feel like is lessens us, takes us to a place where we feel nothing, but hopeless.
Yet, hope?
Quite the opposite.
Hope gives you humanity,
even as cruel as a place it can be,
not always what you intend,
like many of us have realized and learned.
You, though,
Have in your hands not just the world,
but an undying, lasting, unconditional love of a pinky promise,
one made between two hearts,
To always try and be what one another needs,
That will always stay,
something that can't be taken away,
unless you were to say.
For as long as you keep the link,
on the days you lose hope,
Then, mine yours will be.
Trying To Hand Over My Own Hope
Giving Hope
Published by Family Friend Poems August 16, 2024 with permission of the Author.
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