What Hope Poem by Matthew Holloway

What hope have we
When those we idolise
Are false idols
Filled with faults
The dammed and the beautiful
They are exactly as we are
Dreadful and brilliant
Kind and cruel
Alive and slowly dying
It's blessed that we choose
A few to look high upon
Though in choosing
When there is little choice
A respectable icon
To follow in some hope
Of enlightenment
They are all tainted
As we all are
What hope I ask
What hope
Have we