Hope
Rises
Like
A
Phoenix
From
  The
Ashes
Of
Shattered
Dreams

I was never a rose,
But green
Not a chrysanthemum,
Nor an orchid
Something cut,
Walked upon
And yet,
You were the dew
And kissed me,
With a thousand moist kisses
Everynight,
Making me sparkle
In the sunrise

Why do you stay arms distance away
from me,
and our dreams?

We never had any,
but I did or so it seems,

Why won't you pull me back,
I'm slipping into the dark,
I don't want to go that lonely road again,
it would just take a spark,
just to be right,
save my pride,
while I die again inside?
to save who's face?

I don't know about my own pleasure,
when I'm down on my knees,
because you're not hearing my pleas,

I am,
alone at the alter of goodbye,
yet,
again.

I am a musical note in a guitar
Waiting for the touch of dexterous hands

I am a chrysalis under a paling leaf
Waiting to be turned into a butterfly

I am raw ore in the far depths of the mine
Waiting to be extracted and purified

I am a smoldering piece of coal in the hearth
Waiting to be blown into a flame

I am a rough stone under the Earth’s crust
Waiting to be hewn into a diamond

I am an antique piece long buried in the soil
Waiting excavation to become a treasured exhibit

I am a piece of canvas fixed on the easel
Waiting for the touch of a master artist

How I long to transcend my rawness
Into something better and refined

But can I do anything wholly myself
Never! Everything depends on others will too

I discern I am only a flickering shadow
That has existence only if there is light!

I am a musical note in a guitar
Waiting for the touch of dexterous hands

I am a chrysalis under a paling leaf
Waiting to be turned into a butterfly

I am raw ore in the far depths of the mine
Waiting to be extracted and purified

I am a smoldering piece of coal in the hearth
Waiting to be blown into a flame

I am a rough stone under the Earth’s crust
Waiting to be hewn into a diamond

I am an antique piece long buried in the soil
Waiting excavation to become a treasured exhibit

I am a piece of canvas fixed on the easel
Waiting for the touch of a master artist

How I long to transcend my rawness
Into something better and refined

But can I do anything wholly myself
Never! Everything depends on others will too

I discern I am only a flickering shadow
That has existence only if there is light!

What a blessing
To conceal a heart
From the eyes