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I’m sorry, but I just have no hope left. I don’t know how other people do it.
9 points
1 point
It may not help, but I do enjoy this poem by Caitlin Seida:
Hope Is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s a Sewer Rat
- Hope is not the thing with feathers
- That comes home to roost
- When you need it most.
- Hope is an ugly thing
- With teeth and claws and
- Patchy fur that’s seen some shit.
- It’s what thrives in the discards
- And survives in the ugliest parts of our world,
- Able to find a way to go on
- When nothing else can even find a way in.
- It’s the gritty, nasty little carrier of such
- diseases as
- optimism, persistence,
- Perseverance and joy,
- Transmissible as it drags its tail across
- your path
- and
- bites you in the ass.
- Hope is not some delicate, beautiful bird,
- Emily.
- It’s a lowly little sewer rat
- That snorts pesticides like they were
- Lines of coke and still
- Shows up on time to work the next day
- Looking no worse for wear.#
7 points
