by
Adedamola
From life's first witness
Comes death's deal;
Wandering wonder of sixth day,
Dog-eared will and brutal poverty.
Talk of days to come -
End birth in a beginning.
Or what do we do,
When fears of
a threadbare tomorrow,
Snakes into today's thread
of hopeful sighs?
Virtual future battles battered reality:
Weak kneed and sad eyed;
Reading future of hope lost.
So,
We sit at feast;
Downcast, unable to hope anymore:
As the day's hope sits at table with uncertainty.
Shall we, then, say the grace;
In hope that today's hardwork,
Pays-off tomorrow?
Hope Against Hope
© 2020 Adedamola. All Rights Reserved. Readersketch
3 Comments
Past, present, and future darken the crystal ball. Hope doesn't taste like rebellion. It equals folly.
ReplyDeleteNice.
ReplyDeleteNice.
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