Hope Springs Eternal

I don’t remember why I wrote this.

Write a poem about this. Write a poem about everything – Daniel Handler 

Honestly, if not for you

I don’t have much to say anymore

But yet you

With your soliloquys and your musings and your dreams

Showing me with your paintbrush and your pen

What life really could be

If only we could have enough hope

If only you could hold on to that hope

That you have gathered from a million success stories 

That you have gathered 

And kept dear

Like seashells from a beach I collected when I was twelve 

Oh, I have been on that beach 

And seen those precious shells

Iridescent and almost unbelievable 

Beautiful in the face of all doubt and distrust 

I wanted to keep them safe too

But the waves come too quickly when I’m around 

Somehow you can hold them calmly 

But I am always clinging and desperate 

The tide rises and rises until they are swept away just as I reach them 

And I do not know where your hope is now 

Those keepsakes only leave traces 

Visible enough

That I cannot forget them. 


Higher Powers

Of all the many wishes that I cast into the universe

Day after day

An obvious one 

‘I wish I knew what to wish for’

A thing I could point to 

With hope, pride, passion

And say, there, that’s what I want. To do. To be.

But it’s like trying to catch smoke

Elusive, unobtainable 

And sooner or later, it disappears 
Do you know what they tell me? 

That it’s all part of God’s plan

But don’t forget

It’s your life to live

So you’re in control

So better take control

Even if nothing’s really in your control

Because of God remember?

Or your horoscope? Or the planets aligning?
I hear it and you hear it

Kismet, luck and fate

All that inspirational drivel

That’s just begging for you to believe that there’s a point

Please, believe there’s a point 

To all this

Because if not

Then what?
Can you even answer that?
What is your label?

Are you a complacent believer, or a doubtful believer?

Are you a skeptic? A realist? 

Do you like dream catchers?

Or are you a flat-out atheist? And of all things, or just religion?

And to round this all out

Does it even fucking matter?
Luckily I’m no authority 

On any of this

I don’t make the rules, I don’t have to think too hard

All I have to do is pick a side

And hope it fits

And let’s hope it fits

Even if it comes on like a misshapen glove

Fuck, at least it comes on
And for you
I hope you don’t have to pick

I hope that fire in your belly, that drive

That it comes naturally

So you never have to struggle and wander in the dark

And I hope that it feels like it was made just for you

Hand-crafted and gift-wrapped just for you

And if that is the case

I do so envy you