Hope Poem by Stephen Martin II
Hope
What is this emotion
that I have no right to feel?
With all the dead and dying
hope seems to be surreal.
As I look for God in heaven
death's reality in the streets.
I bow my head so sadly,
I stare down at my feet.
I pray for the dead and dying.
I pray to god they've gone or 'll go.
The God that I've long doubted,
now seems to give me hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/7/2026 6:38:04 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
Complex in its simplicity... good write, Stephen! Brian