Hope

Midnight’s come around again
But somehow sleep has not
It seems like one long dream I’m in
Hallucinations lacking plot
I’m waiting for the good to win
But no Hope have I got

The colors all grow dim

Now its two o’clock

The time goes marching by my face
Ever slowing down in pace
One day it will all but stop
And I’ll be draped in lace
Those I know my cry a lot
Tears running down their face
They’ll put me in the family plot
And leave me there in haste


* There was a burgendy peice of lace over the cascet. Throughout the service the voice in my head couldn't stop saying, "She'd like that."