Lost Hope
I’m riding along on this massive ship.
Titanic is the most fitting name for it.
Bold in grandeur and timeless beauty,
Downstairs neighbor to the rich and snooty.
Treated like cargo and feeling unimportant
By those who feel they are most important.
I escape my tiny quarters to go upon deck
As I feel the cold piercing the nape of my neck.
My breath creates steam as hot meets the cold.
I look into the night air, to the mysteries untold,
This journey to a place where life promises better.
I love her already and I never even met her.
Oh, America, the land of opportunities!
So excited to prosper within her communities.
Daydreams of hope are quickly interrupted
As the ship’s journey is violently disrupted.
I lean overboard to see what’s the confusion
And I hope what my eyes see is all an illusion.
Large and white, cold-hearted in the night,
An iceberg passes by invading my sight.
Shock has stopped my brain from reacting…
An unusual sound of water becomes distracting…
The water quickly covers the floor I stand on…
And all my hopes and dreams are soon to be gone.
The important don’t care about us at the bottom,
“Don’t try saving them; the water’s already got ‘em.”
I stare at the night and I don’t fight for my life.
The important has slashed my hopes with a knife.
Got us down here, alone, with no way out,
Stealing our hope only to replace it with doubt.
The water is to my stomach; I can’t feel my toes,
I find absolutely no comfort within my wet clothes.
The screams are haunting and so full of fear.
We at the bottom know our time is near.
The important at least have some kind of a chance
While we at the bottom catch a watery slow dance.
The water is to my chin and I’m frozen stiff.
My nose is too cold for me to take a sniff.
The water is to my nose and now I can’t breathe.
I can’t even stop to think how this is happening.
It all ends here in this dark, freezing ocean.
I’m too numb to feel any real emotion.
The water engulfs me as I float inside my grave,
Wishing I was somewhat important enough to save.
I’ve never met you but America, I say good-bye.
The middle of the ocean is where I am fated to die.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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