I don't understand...
Perhaps I'm too young,
What a wondrous emotion hope is.
Hope fills one up with the ideas of tomorrow,
Ideas of what is,
Ideas of what could be...
And yet it can all be false.
I had hope.
It flowed through me like blood.
And yet as easily as blood can be a vivid symbol of life,
It can be the most morbid symbol of death.
As is so with hope.
Lost hope stings,
Lost hope burns.
Lost hope causes one to question the things they have yet to understand.
The things I have yet to understand.
How is it that the hardest work results in the least reward?
How is it that good people are often the most wronged?
Why must my career be guaranteed by the existence of war?
Why can't justice be served?
Why can't I find someone, anyone, who cares?
The righteous are reprimanded, while the evil run free.
The pedophile I chase continues to run,
He remains free to victimize children...
The peers who smoke marijuana and drink alcohol,