#1
I was very very thoughtful. it is pouring outside and it inspired this little piece.

Softly breaks the light of day,
After the storm has finally past,
All night long as I lie in slumber,
Pitter pattering rain taps along the frosted glass,
It is cold but there is no snow,
It is almost disappointing in the way,
The,
Rain,
pitters and patters on my frosted glass,
For one would expect,
In such cold weather,
To arise to a winter wonderland,
An icy blanket of snow that coats the fields and streets,
In a beautiful tundra of white,
But sadly there is only rain.

I guess one could say,
That in a way,
We knew that it was coming,
But the thought of snow,
The desire for something more,
Is what keeps coal burning,
In the deepest winter nights,
Something to keep them going,
Something to make those little pieces,
Of hard rock,
Think they are doing something important for someone.

I guess one could say,
It is a blind ignorance,
A blissful hope,
A silent cheer for a team that never played,

But they are wrong,

The way I see it,
The hope for the unreal,
The desire for those things we know are not,
Ever,
Going,
to come to fruit,

Is what keeps the hearts of the young,
And the wisdom of the old,
And the buzz of the bees,
And the chirp of the birds,
Going,
It is a thing unseen,
But not unfelt,
It is a body of its own,
That beats in the heart of every man,
Every being,
Every single living,
And,
Non,
Living,
Thing, For,
It,
This unknown entity,
This empty promise,
You and I,

We know it as Hope.