I pump my psyche with loads of hope
It gets an immediate high as were it dope
But then when the rush finally subsides
Reality sets in and I ask: why even try?
What I aspire to do seems a futile bent
Putting words to paper, inspiration meant
But alas, it’s evidently clear to be a lost cause
For the lack of response, reaction that it draws
This is not meant as a cry or plea
Or to sound as ‘oh wow is me’
It just a moment’s expression of a fact to this life
That just hoping for hope - does not make things right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem