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Alida: A 23-year-old Canadian exploring the infinite abyss that is New York City.

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recent posts

Uncle Richard, me, and James Earl Jones - Tuesday, Apr. 04, 2006
So beautiful when the boy smiles - Sunday, Apr. 02, 2006
One way or another - Sunday, Dec. 25, 2005
Way up high - Saturday, Dec. 10, 2005
Reason to start over new - Friday, Dec. 09, 2005

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A few days ago, I was talking about Christy's poem, called Hope, and how it was such a good poem, and I said that I'd post it one of these days. So, here it is. We've been talking lately about our old anthology, and how insightful it was, even though we were only 16 when we were writing it. Some of my best poetry is still from that time... I've written some stuff that I really like since then, but not as much. Anyways...

I hope you read this
And I hope you know
What hope
Does to a desolate soul
Why tears make fears
And fears hold truths
That make more tears,
But only because of hope.
Why hope supplies dreams
That make futures
And successes
And replenishes
Revives and
Calms what fears may do
To hardened hears
Hopes take tears
Turn them to laughter
Fill lives
That are empty and barren.
So when you read this,
Think of me
And hold to the hope
That heals a desolate soul.
Because love always hopes
And love never fails

Sometimes, it seems like all I have left to hold onto is hope, because there's nothing that I can see, nothing tangible that I can cling to. Faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love.

We really were the insightful children, weren't we? And you'll just have to take my word on it that I was just as good, because I don't have any of mine to put up right now.

Ah well... cling to the hope. Because it is not a cruelty; it is that little candle that I can pass to you, and when mine goes out, you can pass back to me. So let's keep each other's candles lit, okay?
infinite || abyss