Expectations can be entirely deceiving.
At least mine are.
That whole "law of positive attraction" thing the new age philosophers speak of,
I don't buy it.
I'm not saying I ever believed it for a second, but all my hope for a thing to go right does not matter an ounce when the doors close and I'm left alone.
When the gate opens and the train is stopped, I expect to see smiles and am greeted with vulgar criticism and disrespect.
Passion has managed its way to the foreground, but all that I can see is that it is there; that interaction is the only one produced.

Lift and repeal.
Lift to repeal.
Hope feels fabricated as perseverance is tested.
Hope and perseverance's relevance in existence, highly debated.
I fight on their behalf, though the evidence is found by scrounging.

As long as I remember that I have seen the glow of light,
Felt its warmth,
Calmed in comfort,
I won't stop screaming for its safety in the dark.

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