Hope

Probably standing among enraged people

isn't the best idea.

They shout, they puke, they stumble,

they take your little piece of sun

away away away from you.

My problem is I don't like people

but I love people,

I love the sound they make when their voices

suddenly collide and coincide in tone.

Grumpy sounds I can't fully get at once,

I only get them when I'm asleep,

I only get when I am a child,

when slowly I go back in time

to the time when the main square had water

and people smiled and gave away candies

and smiled

and were happy

with nothing in their hands.

Odd feelings come and go,

they can beat my dreams,

and they'll sing awful things,

and people will encourage them,

punch her, punch her on the heart!

And in the heart I was hit,

hit in a constant beat,

which sounded like a war song,

like a wild drum,

like oblivion.

But they won't beat me,

they won't take away my dreams.

Next time I'll stand in a cloud

while they run like chicken,

and I search for hope

in their short spans of laughter,

and honesty.//