The Hope For Hope

Hope is a lot like money,

and yet its antonym.

The ones with none clutch it like gold,

fingers trembling over scraps.

The ones with enough to buy the world

snack on it like an exotic bird egg,

curious, careless, unbound.

The poor hope a lot for a little,

the rich hope a little for a lot.

And yet hope is all there is;

for the starving and the satiated,

for light and darkness,

for saints and sinners alike.

But is hope ever enough

for the hopelessly hopeful,

or is it just another requiem

for a dream we pray we never wake from?

Hope is all there is;

the life, the death, and the ruin of it all.