by Neil Clair
I have hope.
|I used to think it all was my fault
And honestly I still do.
I locked everything away in a vault;
Barely noticing what is true.
I was blinded by thought of hate
The thought that no one cared
The thought I was never straight
And all of these things made me scared
But I dreamt a day of hope
Only after I cried for hours.
And now I throw away the rope
Because I made my tears into flowers.
Word Count: 80