Hope is such a

Uniquely marvelous thing

None compares to its eternal spring

Nor again

Its crushing downfall

The most cynic still hope

Those who don't, well

They have poems of dedication.

It might only be hidden

And never abolished


No matter how unwelcome

Thus fools are made of us all

And with our consent

No less

For that is the double-edged

Power of hope.

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