There is more hope in the future than you could believe,

walking on roads that make you unsure-

but you fear falling stagant once you let yourself grieve.

 

You have plans taking shape and dreams you spin and weave,

intentions and ideals almost pure.

There is more hope in the future than you could believe.

 

You are working on letting go things you must leave,

you have to force yourself to still endure.

Survial is louder than the need to grieve

 

while all you look for is just some reprieve;

times for silence and rest become fewer.

There is more hope in the future than you could believe,

 

you keep telling yourself with every breath you heave.

Hang onto dreams though they don’t cure

the aching while you can’t let yourself grieve,

 

the stinging pain throbbing with every cleave;

bad coping mechanisms still lure-

but there is more hope in the future than you could believe

waiting for you once you let yourself grieve.