I bring hope,
yet backed up by wishes,
still no one could fit my scope,
I can't be bought with sweet dishes,
to have me sometime u need a pope,
I scream to repentance, the cold comes with unbound joy
as I feel the demise of what people longed for
all things come not arranged, calling it arranged is just a ploy,
yet I would welcome all glimpse of it, Sometimes I even ask for more,
the future is bright I'm sure,
I would want it to be perfect,
I desire for it to be
yet it feels it probably won't happen.
I have a stronghold, I am not shaken,
my hope sharp as a sword,
I wish the pen too is really sharpen.
or am I wrong to still believe,
that a better tomorrow still awaits,
would it hurt if I know
in this condition how do u cope?
I really would like to know,
today do u still hope or wish to hope?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem