cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air
slow and steady like time was waiting
for him to catch up

with weathered leather jacket and rough unshaven jaw
bright eyes that couldn't have been more
distant than ever
he's been gone since

bitter resentment
blind nostalgia for the old gal he used to have
she didn't know
commitments and conferences kept her away
her future secured with a pinch of surety
like a caterpillar in a  cocoon
ready to bat its wings away
while he had his walking around aimlessly
struggling to find permanence in anything

convinced himself that he was free and footloose
but satisfaction all short-lived
mostly found late at night in rundown motels and crowded bars

it's hard to keep your eyes open
when missed opportunities close in on you
he's drowning in a sea of disappointment
or was it the liquor?

everyone calls him No-Hope and he thinks so too
but still he wouldn't let go
and be carried away in the current
like the rest of the faceless, countless No-Hopes like him