In Despair

jwhhobbs22

Aug 11

1 min read

Called positive

Made a trait

By smiling

Beating

Relentlessly

Any drum at any pace

Makes one face

Amidst much mockery

Incredulity and scorn

One time

When your own hope

Lies forgotten

What is said of you

The blind will

Dumb reflex

And our term faith

Do not aid

Stem no tears, frowns

Or shouts

But cold days

And black-rain nights

Will fade

The true callouses

Provide clear

Better moves

Given hours

Trust the best of

A person past

And the haul

Of what might be.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.

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