Poems of Them

Drown with hope

I've been told so many times
"There's still hope" "There's still time"
But what do they even know about time?
They've always had the luxury of it being given
It being given to them with no urge to return it.

I can't stretch out the moments I yearn to lengthen,
I can't keep holding on to something that drags me down.
I can't stretch out the precious moments of warmth and closure,
I can't hold onto the memories that give me hope.

Although it might seem strange to some,
Since they have so many to rely on,
That I have suffered by separation.
Desperate for someone else's desperation
To be around me.

To hold me close and tell me that it's alright,
That I have to no longer fight,
As they will protect me with themselves.
Protect me with their warm embrace.

But there's no one singing a song for me,
No melody that is there to reach only me.
It's always for the masses,
No holding hands, no holding close
Just songs not there for me but many.

Of course there are those that,
In spite to their nature of reaching many,
They speak to me in a way only few people are able to.
In a way, that makes me feel alright.
But still, they try to give hope.

But what they don't know is,
I just drown with hope.