Latent Hope

                                                                                                                          I
never considered it closely before,
But now it
                                                                                                                     seem
s to be smashing down my door,
And I must ask myself, what's it all
for?
A dark bottle in a brown papper bag,
At a wild part in the countryside?
Or a white powder in a plastic bag,
Eating away at the person from the
inside?
What's it all for?
What's it all for?
WHAT'S IT ALL FOR?
Then a meek voice inside whispered,
"'Tis for nothing more."

What ill-fated choice sends us down
this morose and darkened road?
It was our choice alone so we have
no right
                                                                                                                         to
brood or bode;
We are trapped ina puissant web like
a helpless fly;
We continue to
                                                                                                                 struggle
in vain
                                                                                                             sometimes
                                                                                                                           ,
                                                                                                                        yet
                                                                                                                        we
continue to die.

When will dawn's light break o'er
the ridge,
And when
                                                                                                                      shall
this canyon of death be bridged?
When will lives not
                                                                                                                         be
destroyed but
                                                                                                                    saved
,
And when will the prisioners of this
evil no longer be enslaved?
For the end of this cruel reign I
do implore,
And the little voice spoke to me,
"Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore
                                                                                                                           .
'"