Poetry

What is hope?

A thought?

A feeling?

More?

No one understands because

no one

can.
 

Hope is fluid

always moving.

Too slippery to grasp

for long.

Fingers click against the keys.

My head whirls with stories

of a fantasy world.
 

I urge my fingers faster

as ideas crowd for a chance

to get out onto paper.

Letters scramble

Yesterday,

He said he loved her.

Yesterday,

He kissed her cheek,

And said she was a star.

Today,

He said he hated her.

Popularity,

Is just like

A house of cards-

You work so hard

To build it up.

Only to have it fall to peices

When you say the wrong thing

Look at me, 

Very quite popular.

Everybody sees me

But nobody knows the real me.

The facade I put on,

I just want them to like me

1

One.

Just one.

One singular.

Word.

Is capable,

Of 

So many things.

It can

Hoshinoumi.

A sea of stars.

That’s what YWP is.

A sea of beautiful,

Stunning,

Stars.

You can see why

I’m one of those people,

That won’t stop scrolling.

Yet I senselesly double tap

The screen.

When it says that phones are bad.

That we need to talk 

No, you don’t.

But I do though.

I have something to say about real issues and you say that I don’t.

While you all are just spitting what others want to hear.

let me tell you what i saw today

when i was downtown with 200k others

in the heart of the city of the nation,

a swamp raised to stand above the world. with

flags & 

signs &

Sunny days brought her life.

The flower loved sunny days.

She flourished under the bright star,

smiled at its rise.

But then the next day,

it rained.

Hard.

Like a thunderstorm.

When you were a kid,

When you were still learning animal names,

And awed by the world around you,

What did it mean when you looked up,

At other kids, at adults,