lost and forgotten juveniles poems: Hope- Draped in a pall of black.

 I sigh, I look at you—
A salute, a propagation,
A meaning adrift, a fish of imagination.

Upon the waves you swim,
I stand amazed—
The will I survived, often provoked.

I almost called you a mystery,
I almost wrapped myself in myth.
Then one day, I opened a door—
A door to happiness.

But all I saw was light,
Draped in a pall of black.