Hope is what you do,
And that has been

A tradition in each family
Since Adam down the earth.

He is not a beggar
To be shooed away

With bubbles
Of your unwanted wrath

At his step
At inconvenienct time,

And don't make him
A child when you say,
Run away, fast,
I wanna some peace.
He is the tick
On the walls,
Muddy or painted.
It is only he
Who reminds you
You are alive
In the crowd.
He is the frog
That keep craoking
In your heart.