Hope is a Perilous Thing

Recently some friends and I were discussing hope in the realm of romantic love. So often hope is looked at as a positive thing. I think it can be, but I think it is also perilous to rely upon it too much. This is a poem I wrote that addresses these thoughts.



Hope is a perilous thing.

He leads you down the primrose path
And seems inviting and alluring
But it’s far too late when you realize
The road is briar and burning

And sometimes He gives a gift
Of beautiful rose-colored glasses
Only to lead you to the edge
Of a great and infinite chasm

You never see your peril
And you’re happy for your blindness
Until you start to fall
And you start to feel the madness

As you see your dreams
Just one. More. Time.
Before they end and shatter

And you feel your heart
Torn and breaking
And nothing seems to matter

But sometimes,
Just sometimes,
Hope will see you through.

He leads you
Through the briar
He keeps
His gift of glasses
He leads you
Through the fire
And He guides you
‘Cross the chasm

Then your dream is realized
Without the rose glasses and lies
And you give Hope a big, old hug
And believe all his reasons why

But those other times…
That Hope led you astray
And you can never tell
What mood He’s in today

So you sit in the road,
And watch those who pass by
They tell you, “Hope is wonderful”
While you sit and cry.

You want to believe,
But you know the truth
Hope is perilous and incredibly cruel

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