3 AM Poetry Cafe
Poetry of any kind, especially those that come up on sleepless nights
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Hope
Like weed...indestructible,
it is growing wherever it wants,
so tiny in between the asphalt cracks of the city.
Many times it was stepped on and crushed
without empathy.
But then in a short while
it comes back in a new place
Hope.
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