Hope perches on a branch in my heart
waiting patiently for spring to come;
She looks out her broken window
wondering where the cold comes from.
Love is a tired old woman in the
depths of my soul, fatigued and dismayed;
Not knowing what should come naturally
she sits there in the dark afraid.
There outside like a lifeless corpse
love tries to breathe life into me;
Almost unwillingly, Hope accepts just
enough love to survive, just barely.
Because all that is within her
knows that love ends with pain;
the voice inside reminds her that no one
can ever take away her stain.
copyrighted 2012