Hope

by dbdevilliers

But what’s the problem?

The sun shines

birds sing

the trees are green and

they sway in the breeze

and I’m not quite dead yet.

It’s tough to see it all, of course

through the smudged and

cracked lens of my mind’s eye

but maybe if I get the focus just right

I might catch a glimpse of it

and I might know

and I might understand.

 

I might.

 

Maybe I’ll find the strength

to get out of bed

sometimes.

Maybe I’ll get a job

and maybe this time

I’ll keep that job

for longer than a month or two.

Maybe this time is more

than a tally-mark etched

into a concrete wall.

Maybe this time

is the time when

I break down the concrete wall

and my registry of failure crumbles

along with it

and I run so far away

so, so far away

from here.

Maybe.

 

I have to hope

or I’ll never leave.

 

So, then

I’ll hope.