Sonnet of Hope

I pace among the masses while my legs keep me from home,

and a cloud of grey descends on a brok'n mans shoulders. 

It's not oft that I am left here standing on my own,

with haunting dreams of 'wish I could have' soldiers. 

Wish I could, wish I may, wish it would have bin;

wishing that these dreams of mine were gone. 

But that is not reality, a world I could have seen,

that is not the truth of my own bones. 

I am a brok'n man with a grey and heavy cloud

resting on my brok'n, nothing soul. 

And the grey gives truths I know a blanket of doubt,

endless dreams with ever-reaching goals. 

But in that cloud of grey, there will always be some light,

as true as stars will always light the hopelessness of night.