Poetry Month, Day 23: Tool/Weapon

Tool/Weapon

It occurs to me that I
Am afraid to hope,
Lest I get hurt.
When did I learn to fear hope?
When did hope become a knife
Too sharp for me to touch,
Too dangerous for me to trust?
When did I decide
I was too inept
Too stupid
Not worthy
Of hope?
I always thought of hope as a gift
But now I see it as a tool
That can also be used as a weapon.

Copyright ©2015 C. Mitchell

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