ON HOPE…

MY RELIGION TEACHER USED TO TELL ME THAT ONE SHOULD NEVER DEPRIVE SOMEONE OF HOPE. IT MIGHT BE THE ONLY THING THEY HAVE LEFT.

Inner Opera

A lonely tear

Falls on the young

Listener of the rhythmic music,

That filled the tunnels

Of closed ears,

That now relish

The harmonious sounds

That sing.

From the tenor's vocal chords,

Onto the music sheet

Of the audience

Composed of the one,

Individual who lost

The tear,

Because of the truths,

The music dictated

Or induced within their soul

And carried away the

Deeply rooted emotions,

That hid there,

Onto the canvas

Of their history

To the masterpiece,

Of the drama,

That comes to light

Within the lines

Of the listener's composition,

Of the powerful opera

That marvels at the emotion

Of the music of hope.

Age 19 Jan 1, 1998

Unto Concealed Smiles