Hope - A poem

Hope is a flower fragrant
That blossoms
Waits and then withers
It may even be crushed
Under the feet.

Hope is the name of tomorrow
That comes
But the day may be frosty
with clouds
Obstructing the light of the sun.

Hope is a bird
That sings
And suddenly stops
On account of some fear
Only the birds knows.

It is also a candle
Giving light in the dark 
But if the wax is poor 
Or a gust of wind comes
The candle may go.


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