False Hope Poem by Francie Lynch
False Hope
There was always Christmas Eve
And birthdays waiting
Walking home from school.
Then you would smile,
Or was that guile
That heightened my breath.
Then there were your eyes
That stretched my longings.
Needing belonging
I saw it all as hope.
Through winter clouds
The spinning sun is hazy,
But it's there.
As long as hope
Is in the box,
I'll open all lids,
Let distractions fly out,
And remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 2:27:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
