We had hopes
And held on
To air
Imagine this, delicately, with
your fingers.
Tell me,
Is your faith strong, rigid,
cold?
When we close our eyes, nowadays,
our metronome is muffled with
backfire.
It is still
So busy so
We try to think
Optimistic, or up,
But that is not doing
Anything
For lift.
We had work to do, we all knew
Sweat
Yet, we hoped it would all get
done.
Painting by Paul Peel [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
