I hope not
the only problem is hope is all we’ve got
They say it’s the hope that gets you and I can see that
waiting for news in the form of police arrival, down on the farm, deep in the city
Hope springs eternal, hope leaks internal, hope the hoax infernal, hope cloaks ethereal, but hope remains integral
Let hope choose festival and what is best for sure, is hope is part of us all
Except this all feels like heart felt cliché
A merry parade of platitudes
Because if you hope your daughter will come back
Or your mind doesn’t crack
But you never see her again
And for the umpteenth time this year you feel driven round the bend
What does hope mean then?
I can still have it but it’s like grasping a nettle, and not one in fine fettle
©John de Gruyther 2018
John is an author, poet, songwriter and visual artist. He has delusions of grandeur and wishes he was Johan Cruyff. John has worked with Titan Publishing, Star Trek Magazine, The Guardian, LSG Media, The Citizen, SFX magazine and many more. You can read more of his work at The World Outside the Window.