A Thing with Feathers

If hope is a thing with feathers,

then my heart is a humble tree

One day hope soared in and decided to stay

It perched on a branch

And it made a nest

~

One day,

when there was nothing left to fight for,

I decided hope couldn’t stay anymore.

I took the branch and I shook it

Nest falling and feathers flying

Hope had flew out of my heart once again

~

But strangely, hope still haunts me

Pecking at my soul,

Trying to sneak back into my heart.

But I know better this time,

don’t I?

~

If hope is a thing with feathers,

My heart is a humble tree

Except this time my heart’s broken

And the tree is left empty