Hope

Where is the hope they talk about?
Is it hidden in the corner somewhere?
I shall find it if I keep on searching
hanging out to dry in the air.

For it's been much too wet from tears
that took it away.
For hope's not around on every day.
We find that there's a price to pay
to bring it back.

And oh how we feel the lack,
the terrible, hollow lack of it.
So we hope again, for even just a little bit
is much better than none.
For when there's no hope
we find we can't see the sun.