Hope.

Sometimes hope
Is a cruel joke
Like names scrawled
Inside the adjacent
Bathroom stall.
Sometimes hope
Is a massive iron
Argonaut standing
Futilely watchful,
Lifeless, cold, and tall.
Sometimes hope
Is tippy toe
Fingertip touching
Brushing bare edges
Just beyond reach,
Straining to
Break surface tension
Just enough for release.
Sometimes hope
Is your best friend’s
Birthday and all
The best wishes
And gifts freely given
But never to you.
Sometimes hope
Is chasing rainbows
Through valleys
Down water falls;
And finding out
Too late the
Secrets of illusion:
That light never ends.
Sometimes hope
Is the desert Oasis,
The voyager’s siren,
Don Quixote’s windmill,
A child’s fairy story,
Religion’s promise of heaven:
Painting daisies in dungeons
Disguising paradise for hell.
Sometimes hope
Mocks us as we lie awake
Hoping that someday
We’ll have learned
To outsmart the
Tricksters, cheat
Anubis, and share a smoke
With Cerberus before
The universe’s final
Lusty exhale.

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