Deja vu

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Stepping onto the porch, in front of Hope’s door.

Hoping to be let in this time, unlike before.

Hoping to be let in this time; to finally explore.

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Maybe, it’s because I have been here before.

Since many a time have I loitered around Hope’s door.

Never to be let in, never getting what I was looking for.

So why do I keep coming here, always hoping for more?

 

Wouldn’t it be nice?

We want the same thing,

You and I.

But we’re standing in different lines,

Waiting for what life has left behind.

Wouldn’t it be nice, to get what we want?

Wouldn’t it be nice, to keep what we find?