Hope, A dangerous thing I might think.
Wins wars, Kills thousands, influences stocks, Keeps people alive,
DRIVES GREED, inspires the young, slowly coaxes suicide,
starching the past and paves the futures paths.
It can be exploited and Used, broken and bruised.
Shining through the darkness while strangling the few.
Its rain every day.
The lonesome star peaking through the clouds on a dreary night.
It’s the glimpse of sun following the darkness.
Revolution is its son and independence are it its daughters.
IT’S LOVE
Knowledge that there’s more or that it’s all over, Knowledge of the Unknown.
Its leaving the light on when no one’s coming home
Its tears that are not wasted, every drop alive with expression.
It’s lingering scents of distant memories, people and places.
Its wanting. Waiting. Needing.
It’s all over. Or is it?
It’s Hope
Quite dangerous indeed.