Burst like a child’s red balloon

Hope hangs well-creased and thread-bare

Stippled in the scars of fate

Saddled with our every care


Decaying scent to what has died

The smell of salt within our tears

Tragic the trodden path that leads

To facing our unknown fears


It fades in our most trying times

Turning darker than burnt toast

Easily we fall without it there

When we are needing it the most


We cannot lose our guiding light

Stumbling through the darkness that comes

The weight of life is hard to bear

As hopeless the mind becomes


12 Responses to “Hopeless”
  1. sudrakarma says:

    Heavy. But I tend to like the darker stuff.

  2. yassy says:

    Good stuff , Brad. Your quill is potentially potent. Can write anything.. dark light delight happy sad ., it’s all there in your work.

  3. Jim Borden says:

    we all need hope…

  4. Francisco Bravo Cabrera says:

    Loved the idea of the poem, the rhythm, the subject matter and the entire creation. Hope is the last thing one clings to and one cannot afford to lose it. Great work my friend!

  5. Harley Reborn says:

    😔 you’re writing me here

  6. This one is deep. I love the references and choice of words, it has a touch of darkness and that’s the beauty of the poem. My favourite read in this week

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