Poetry

Hope

By GRAHAM MCPHERSON | Published: November 2, 2012

As I wondered the roads called Life
I saw much good and much strife
Once I came upon a ghost town
And though I looked, only two men I found
One relaxed, jolly and his happiness filled the air
Around him, no hint of despair.
The other was tired and worn, having hope though it did strain
That things would improve and be better again.

So there I wintered ‘till the Spring
Watching this very odd thing
The worn man strived to fix the town,
Even as it fell back to the ground
Always dreaming grandiose dreams
Ignoring facts and needed details, so it seems.
The jolly man did not to that lend a hand
But to the tasks that needs demand
And to the things they need not then
But could reasonably be used for something.

The night before I left, to the jolly man I did talk
The worn man asleep, exhausted having worked on a wooden path to which walk
Of him I need must ask before it drove me insane
Why when the people left they did remain
Then I asked why he was always glad
Whilst the worn man was sad

From his mouth, horrid words did he utter
Grotesque truths that made my soul shudder.
“The others left whilst we remained
In hopes of a better life maybe to be gained,
For decades this place has gone downhill
In spite of all our effort and all our will

“I be a pessimist, holding nay that hope
For it can lead to a mans end, like any gallow rope.
Why travel far for a dream
That shall come apart at the seam?
No, as the future is unsure to be,
And the world is full of misery
Then throw away the care of if you’ll die
And live your live to your best happy.
I prepare for all, expecting naught
Many a time I be saved by such a plan I wrought.
Things go wrong, I admit it’s true
And our bad luck is Fortune’s due.
When things go right, ‘tis a pleasant surprise
My spirits then do rise.”

Nodding to the worn man’s room, he carried on
Oh, how I wish those truths were wrong!
“In our lives we all hold a sin
His be optimism: hope carrying.
He dreams the glories of the past shall return
But from it he shall not learn
He strives to raise the wonders of the old
Hoping it shall draw here the bold
To warnings he pays no heed
Ignoring them and any costs of his deeds
He believes all will be fine
Taking course from that one line
So when things do go astray
Naught is made to save the day
Sadness hits when hope proves untrue
As if good luck was just his due
When things go right, there is no real feeling happy
Cause `that’s just the way it should be.’”

As I travel, with me the words still remain
Taking from some hope, but much of hopes pain
I enjoy now what once I took for granted
And am better prepared when against be luck is slanted
I carry with me still some hope
But bound so with the worlds I may cope
I enjoy more of the world that I see
But more when chance favours what is desired by me.