One day a friend

looked at me and said,

“Never give up hope.”

I thought to myself,

“Why should I?”

As I stand by my father’s bed side

hoping that his blood pressure

would rise,

Hoping he would start to

breathe on his own.

Just hoping for a

positive outcome.

Just hoping for

something.

Hope, a word of convenience,

dedication and determination.

You feel that if you just hold on

long enough it will build

Certain boundaries and walls

and with each belief upon

This word, “hope”, it would develop

more of the same

Allowing this word to become

more penetrating within

the battle upon it’s meaning,

more uncomplicated, intangible.

It’s complexity to uncertainty

and my reason to try to understand,

Allows me to hold on to it.

This certain emotion is more like an

entangled word with no true definition,

Non existence, a fragmented

one word sentence

Of one’s consciences.

I stand hopelessly at my

father’s lifeless body

With false hope and no belief,

Sadness upon despair.

My cherished desire with

anticipation had ended.

The day my father was buried.

Hope doesn’t live here anymore.