The Mistake of Hope

Sometimes it bunches up like water,
filled with debris of ignorance and naivety:
childish dreams with even more foolish expectations,
as if we haven't all been here before.
So the aquifer is drained,
the channels washed,
the priests are brought in,
yet again,
with the same persistence,
making the same mistakes again,
for the sake of a painless transition.
And here we are again.
Hoping.
Like children expecting a fountain to spout toys.

-o0o-