hope is like weeds, in a way; tenacious
(a poem)
(See the end of the work for notes.)
the sapling in a desolate world
You ask me how I hope
I ask how you could not;
To live without hope
Is to live without living—
To believe that the ground is barren
That the seeds have not sprouted
That nothing will ever sprout again—
A belief held only by fools.
You live, so hope does too
Just a short poem I wrote, hope you enjoyed!
Feedback and general comments are very very welcome; I have no clue if my poetry is decent or not hehe
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