Hope is bullshit.

Will, gumption and doing;

That’s all there is.

Pity is for the rich,

Independence, freedom,

Peace - all grandiose

Next to living.

The question of being unrelenting as long as oxygen comes in.

Laugh into Death’s eyes,

Make suffering a friend,

Pain, a prodigal son.

Returning and leaving, and returning again.

Not for hope but for doing.

Yeah, fuck hope.

Take a shovel and saw,

Find ways and means.

To meld back into nature’s law.

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