HopeA Poem by Stefano Ianiro
A broken promise, with a gleam of hope.
She’ll write a letter in a cloud of smoke.
Directed to you, a tear for each stroke.
Alone she will sit, with no chance to cope.
I, a man with hope, will someday hold her.
For a taste of love; no wish for power.
To conquer the bad, that haunts her hours.
Will save a brittle soul from turning sour.
You took her for less; in time will lose more.
What one may embrace, you’ve labeled a chore.
Her eyes a home with a sparkling decor.
I’ve never yet met this beauty before.
It’s hope that carries me to her front door.
© 2011 Stefano Ianiro
AboutI'm Stefano, 19, Montreal. I love writing, talking, photography, filming, music and on and on it goes. I find dreams far superior than modern day reality. Follow me on Twitter at: @StefanoIaniro more..
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