Hope is tired.
He is an old man, beaten down,
Worn out by the disappointment
Of expectations.
Every now and then the sun comes out
And hope is renewed,
Transformed into an infant:
Fresh, naïve, a blank slate
Upon which the world will write.
Without hope we would be nothing,
Life would no longer exist,
And the vacuum of anti-matter,
That makes up space, would be its successor.
Hope puts ideas in our minds
And laughter in our souls.
It brings tears to our eyes,
And despair to our hearts.
Hope is the basis, the foundation
For all emotion, thought and action
Because it provides us with the power of reasons:
A reason to love and breathe
And a reason to sleep and eat;
A reason to be ourselves and a reason to
Live the life we are meant to live.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Hope is tired.
He is an old man, beaten down,
Worn out by the disappointment
Of expectations.
Every now and then the sun comes out
And hope is renewed,
Transformed into an infant:
Fresh, naïve, a blank slate
Upon which the world will write.
Without hope we would be nothing,
Life would no longer exist,
And the vacuum of anti-matter,
That makes up space, would be its successor.
Hope puts ideas in our minds
And laughter in our souls.
It brings tears to our eyes,
And despair to our hearts.
Hope is the basis, the foundation
For all emotion, thought and action
Because it provides us with the power of reasons:
A reason to love and breathe
And a reason to sleep and eat;
A reason to be ourselves and a reason to
Live the life we are meant to live.
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