It's The Hope That Kills

A poem.

Photo by Lina Trochez on Unsplash

I have heard that,
It is the hope that kills,
But I can think of more painful ways to die.

Misery is a bit of a sadist, 
He takes too long before he kills you, 
Makes promises that he won't kill you,
Says if you give in to him,
You will live a long life,
The sun may shine a bit less bright,
But it is more than hope will ever give you,
Then when you least expect it,
just when you are getting used to, 
your miserable existence,
he takes you out.

Anger wears you out too quick, 
Works you like a dog,
Consumes you every second of the day, 
Sucks you of all that is good in you, 
Leaves you no time to look at the sun,
And when all is said and done,
Leaves you to die like a dog. 

If I am to die before I die, 
Or when I die,
Let it be hope that put the dagger in my heart, 
Let it be hope that put the bullet in my brain, 
For I would have seen the sun in all its glory, 
For I would have gotten a glimpse of the light, 
of growth and happiness.

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