Hope for Sale
Waited this long days for change
On this personal Robben Island I lay
Waiting for freedom from my weary thoughts
The one which has wrapped me like a mummy
Waiting to be scurried into the mouth of the pyramid
Wished so long for the ray of the horizon
Something new, even if it’s scotching dead
Wishing to be seen to make a move
To roll of over to the other side they say is green and plum
Wishful thinking of a man with a pouch filled with air
Wonder why for once earth can give and not take
It blesses us with days and night to count our days
Wondering if moments captured can be traded for more
This side of the coin is oblivious of the world
Wonderfully furnished are my thoughts about dusk
Will I be able to hold on to my illusions?
The fuel that moves my imaginations
Would it be fair to sum it up and just equate all?
After all, we will have visit Uncle Joe’s Hall down town
Wouldn’t it make sense to put Hope on Auction?