Hope Poem by Concetta Salter

How many nights must I spend here alone?
Looking for love in a world full of clones?
How many tears late at night must I cry?
How many years by myself to survive?

How is my heart, that is beaten and torn
Still beating life when I’m feeling so worn?
How can I rise to the mornings bright sun?
How can I not feel the pull towards a gun?

How am I taking each step that I take?
How am I perfect at being so fake?
How am I living each day to the end?
Why can’t I have just a single true friend?

Why am I living a world of pretend?
Why am I breathing the breaths I have left?
Why am I, why am I, writing this poem?
It must be the word that I heard was called hope.