Memory of My Soul: A Poetry Collection

Rebury My Hopes

At a few softly spoken words,

A ream of dead hopes are

Reanimated, though still dead

And slowly crawl through the soil

To try reaching the life giving

Light of overwhelming spring.

Yet they must remain buried

For they are only ghostly shades

That would reach around my throat

And choke the life from me.

I can not nourish them, though

They sing once more their song

And with a dull aching sadness

Mixed with needed self preservation,

I scorch the ground and rebury

 My hopes of the broken past.