If hope was a tangible
And your senses weren’t covered
By a plastic of despair
How your senses would have been coloured
By the hopes of your share
If hope was a tangible
It would be…
Well hear
like finding a written note somewhere
like a flower gently tucked in the hair
like a stranger offering a chair
like making a spontaneous prayer
like tending a butterfly with hands bare
like sun when the sky is clear
like a gentle breeze from nowhere
like walking through a bookfair
like drinking in a neighbour’s chinaware
like holding your palm against the air
Only if hope was a tangible
And your senses weren’t cluttered
By all you had to bear
How your senses could have punctured
Through dejection’s layer
Even If hope was a tangible
It would not be…
Near
©️Aaila
The Inked Aaila 