Hope is FARFETCHED

Pillows are wet
But it’s not a call for concern
Because for many, many years
They’ve been more than wet
They were soaked, no — drenched —

Time has passed
But time will always be the MASTer
For even though it goes fast
It moves with its mast
A spectacle that will leave us aghast.

Pillows are wet and time is passing.
Times are hard, but we keep on hoping
Even when hope seems to be lost, we keep on searching
For the proverbial light that comfortably sits at the tunnel’s end.

What will tomorrow bring?
Is the question on everybody’s lips.
If there is no happy ending
Then there is no need for a bitter living.

New beginnings.
But what happened to old ones?
What happened to the dreams we dreamt that never came to life?
What happens to the lyrics we write that never become songs
Or to the poetry we create that will never be performed?

New beginnings?
But what happens to old scars?

What happens to those wounds that never dried up to become scars?
What happens to the havoc caused by broken hearts?

New beginnings?
But what happens if —
No, when we don’t want to start anew?

What happens when — — — WHEN we cross the finish line
We don’t look forward to another race????

What happens then?