Hope

A child crawls into his fluffed bed,
Flashlight and comic book in hand,
Reading until daylight.

An adult wakes up exhausted,
Goes to his job in the city and is hardly able to stand.
Eventually, arrives at the skyscraper, yet dislikes its height.

A child runs through the pollen-scented yard,
Wind flapping his bright red cape,
As he pretends he is his favorite hero, Superman.

An adult types away to fill his time card,
Forgets the date,
And feels like he was forced into a plan.

A child hurries to his friends.
Together they ride their bicycles
And create a quest.

An adult worries about making amends
And repairing his clanking vehicles,
Stress screaming silently from his chest.

A child hears hatred hurled from parent to parent,
Weeps in his room,
And protects his fragile heart by becoming an indifferent man.

The boy, many years later, pays rent,
Plops down on his couch and awaits the next day's doom,
Eating from a soup can.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he sees,
Red, blue, yellow?
It's the man he'd dreamt he'd be.
Was it too late to become this fellow?

Not as long as he has hope.

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