False hope is never something you want to get your hands on.
|I hold the glowing hope that I could someday be whole.
As I decay and become part of the earth, the light flickers.
My eyes lock onto the tiny shred of shine left in my palm.
I hold my breath and it falters, just the slightest.
I am stuck in this giant steep hole,
This light can't go out.
It is my last hope of seeing something real and good and beautiful.
It is my last hope of being me.
The light glows brighter and finally goes out.
All of the air I had in my lungs rushes out in one big gasp.
I clutch onto the once-bright light asking it over and over to start up again.
What do I do without my hope, without my light guiding me out?
I look up and see all the faces of my friends and family that love me.
I hold onto the dead hope and realize that it never was alive.
The thing I thought was saving and helping me back up was my shovel.
I crush the thing in my hand and let the dried up body wither away into the earth.
Funny, I was almost in it's place.
I smile back up at the happy faces and I see a million hands reach down.
My "hope" was so bright I was blinded and didn't notice all the help that I wanted was only an arm reach away.
Finally, a tear leaves my eye as my arms reach for the sky, for freedom.
I can see again.
The sun outshines that little light in my hole.
I realize it's real and I quickly place it as my new hope.
My friends hand me a shovel to help them close my old home up.
I push it away and climb up into a bulldozer.
I not only fill up the hole, I make a giant hill that I can sit upon,
and watch the sun, my new hope, set.
The colors fill the sky and I watch in amazement,
I had nothing like this down there.
I only had the dark brown soil
that continued to close in with every shaky breath I took.
I only had the gross black of my skin
as it covers itself in death.
Which is the only thing I wanted at the time.
I smile and it feels exhilarating.
I have this new feeling and it is wonderful and new and I'm curious to find out
what it's called.
But something doesn't feel right.
My friends are shedding their beautiful skin.
The demon like creatures that were once my friends lunge at me.
Black clouds cover my sun.
I am left in darkness and scrambling for something,
anything to hold onto so I don't fall back into the hole.
Someone dug it back up.
My family turns their backs.
They run for the sunlight and leave me to fight of my demons alone.
I sit on the ground, having no where else to go but down.
The demons circle around me and I cry out,
"What do you want? I have nothing to give!"
Tears fall down my cheeks and I can't control my speech.
Little whimpers come out randomly,
"Please.. Go away. I don't have anything... I am nothing... Stop..."
A demon kneels down close to my ear and I bury my face in my hands.
Slowly the thing tells me what they want in a raspy evil voice,
"We want... to go home."
All at once the wicked things jump into my head.
Where they belong.
The clouds move and sun shines on my face.
My family returns to me with smiles.
I have new friends surrounding me.
But my hope is gone.
I can climb out of holes
and even fill them up.
But I can't escape my own mind.