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Fictitious Hope

Updated on December 7, 2011

Hope is not a thing with feathers
You are mistaken, dear Emily
It has legs, not flying but running
Across the rugged track
Where all athletes must follow
There is no finish line to cross
The race is a winding continuum
Tripping the competitor who is
Weary from the fight
Exhausted from the search

Hope does not float
Momma, it's pure fiction
It's an anchor that pulls
The unassuming prey under
To the depths of cold uncertainty
It's tied to the bow, escape
And drown. Hold on to the
Iron weight and wait
For the light to wash over and
For the tide to cleanse the hopeless

He who has hope has nothing
Dante foretold this abandonment
Save this proverbial messenger
Clinging to his tarnished comfort.


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      geordmc 6 years ago from Beliot, Wisconsin

      Beautifully written, I will read more of your work!

    • amym1010 profile image

      amym1010 6 years ago

      Thank you!

    • cat on a soapbox profile image

      Catherine Tally 6 years ago from Los Angeles

      This is really well done!

      Being the optimist that I am, I will still remain hopeful.

    • amym1010 profile image

      amym1010 6 years ago

      Thanks, gals!!!!

    • Daisy Mariposa profile image

      Daisy Mariposa 6 years ago from Orange County (Southern California)


      Your prose is perfection.

      Congratulations on publishing your tenth Hub.

    • capricornrising profile image

      capricornrising 6 years ago from Wilmington, NC

      What a wonderful voice. I hope to read more.