There is only one youth
and yes, life has a way
of changing and redirecting us
or better yet,
life has a way of correcting us
and teaching us different steps.

Life has a way of changing the way
we think or speak,
and then, somehow,
we come full circle
or we revert to who we were
or where we’ve come from.

What inspires hope?
Is it life?
Is it someone or something
that creates or acts like a seed,
and then triggers a thought . . .
or is it a connection
which somehow,
changes us for either the better
or worse?

Is the inspiration of hope
something that brings a spark
or starts the fire inside,
or is hope the drive that keeps us alive
and despite the ugly truths,
somehow, we see life in a different way
and should this be true,
is hope the light that degrades the darkness
and removes the blindness
to eye, which can otherwise see . . .
is that it?

It is my intention to accentuate the benefits
of hope, or if not,
and if for no other reason,
my intention with this journal,
or these posts are to illustrate
one simple thing—
There is no hope in hopelessness,
and there is no peace in resentment.

I know this all too well.

How do you win?
Or better yet, how do you stick it out,
or stick through the rough spots,
or hold on through the humbleness
of falling down, or being knocked down
or beaten and dragged to the right
or left; and essentially,
how does one find the endurance
or the drive to continue
and to persevere
or how do we keep going
when it seems
as if we keep losing ground?

There are times
when you are going to ask yourself,
what the hell was I thinking?
I swear this happens to everybody.

There are times when we look back
at our so-called hard times
or the troubles from our past,
and then we’ll shake our heads
or we’ll laugh and realize
that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

1)

And the times that we count on
are mounting, and the minutes we plan for
are quick.
And the days that we hoped for are fleeting,
but the good memories we can build
never fade.

And I find myself, here in the doorway,
looking outwards at the sunrise,
while the days behind me have mounted,
the days ahead can be vague.

 I’m starting to wonder about something.
And to be closer to the point,
or more specifically,
I am starting to wonder if my level of hope
has anything to do with the level
or the relationship I have
with my self-esteem.

I say this because
I think that there’s a change in need
when it comes to my belief system
or should I say
there has to be a change made
when it comes
to the belief in myself.

And somehow, or out of nowhere,
it became June and the months
seemed to peel away like a picture show
or some flickering tale of 365 pictures
that tell a story of what was,
what happened,
and what will never be again.

Sometimes we see this and think,
“what a waste”
and maybe it was,
a waste, I mean.
Or maybe “waste”
isn’t the right word
or perhaps “waste” is inaccurate
or an understatement.

We are up and running to find our way
and with hopes to make up some time,
and hopefully,
we can get ahead
or find some way to make sense
of this whole crazy place.

It is morning now, and the rain has fallen.
They say the sun is coming out soon
and that the day will be salvaged
before we know it.

When the light comes in
and the day breaks after a long night,
there is this entire justification of being wild enough
to dance in the City and to enjoy
the pleasant mayhems of being young
and crazy.

This was us,
once . . .