False Hope
When hopes lay on the floor like leaves under foot,
Crushed against the pavement,
Embedded on the underside of boots,
What is there left to contemplate?
Failure staring you in the face,
Where a train running full speed towards you,
Through the dense fog of feelings,
Is more comforting than your bed.
That’s the crossroads I’ve reached,
Left or right to let go,
Or onwards to more false hope?
I wish I was stronger.
