3
The barbed wire
holds us in
but maybe there is hope.
Everywhere in me
there's an ache or cringe
but maybe there is hope.
The ashes
that used to be men
litter the cold hard ground
only memories now
but maybe there is hope.
The tainted air
fills my lungs
the fierce night
takes the life
from my bones
but maybe there is hope.
I scan the wired walls
and see a flower
a splash of color
in this black and white hell
I pick it off
of the wall of twisted snakes
maybe there is hope.
Very frail,
it is
a woebegotten bud
a petal falls
and lands
on my cold, dirty feet
the sweet smell fills me
a splash of color
in the black and white hell
that is my soul
now I know
there is hope.
HOPE
by M. Ellington