Keeping hope alive


I write to live, I don’t live to write

In the seemingly endless journey that is life, dreams must be delayed, sacrifices made

What happened to my dream?

It did not die

It did not disappear

It is alive

It lives within my the prison mind and and it waits

Hopes of my future

Its only yard time is on the page, a song, a psalm, lest I go insane

Visions of my futures appear before me each day, I need to keep them alive

Or I will die with it

The page is air, and the ink is it's fare

Do I write for the girl with the emerald eyes, I have seen our kids,

Do I do it for the girl with the blonde hair, I have seen our house,

No, I write for me, for my future, if my hope is alive, then so am I

The girl with the emerald eyes is gone before I can say hi

The girl with the blonde hair claims she is a lesbian

I write for me, because crushes come and go and feelings fade

I write for me because, I have not found my One yet

I write for me in hopes that I will write for others someday

A wife, kids, grandkids, my hope, my future

I write for me because for now, if I reject creativity, my imagination, my hope

I reject life, the darkness imbues, and I embrace death.


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