Hope And Thought

Her name was Hope
and she lived in a sewer,
and to those that knew her
she could barely cope. 
Not many understood her
it wasn’t in their nature
to have some Hope,
they’d rather just leave her
where they left their future.

His name was Thought
his name was fiction, 
all he spoke was perfect diction.
All that he sought
was for permission
to end this wave of contradiction.
That mental onslaught
of doubt and mute ambition
that spawns constriction.

Thought woke up
half asleep one day
for once in his life he had nothing to say.
His sewer washed up
he went out to play 
and saw Hope in her beauty and wanted to stay.
Thought woke up
when Hope smiled his way
he knew what he wanted to do today.

Hope saw him
above the mess
above her path of loneliness. 
On a whim
Hope thought yes
this one seems different from the rest. 
Hope found him,
he looked stressed
he made her feel she was the best.

Hope was his inspiration
Thought was her meditation.
Hope gave him her self
Thought did the same, 
they lived in their own sanity
they were in sane.


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