Well, aches and pains, No joy of life in whatever doses. A smile, a kiss, a gentle touch - Tinges my soul with smells of roses?
Truth is, that with no pain, There is no love, And so no hope. And with no hope there can't be life! So figure this - just strife?
Do hope. And bear the pain, To play the game.
Don't be so vain Nor hide in shame. For it would be a pity To miss out on the basic ingredient of life. And possibly ... Fame!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
After I wrote this piece, I actually finished reading the last pages of Dan Brown's 'The Lost Symbol', and incredibly the very last word in the narrative was precisely 'Hope'. A huge coincidence, really.
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