To the feisty little kid who always made me smile

Hope cannot be given,

It is always found.

Laying still, dormant...

Buried deep in your heart.

Forever eluding or defying

Our intellect and our education and our experience.

And when people are buried, and suffocated and lost,

In misery, despair and pain,

They will then, just when they have given up on it,

Find it.

Magnificent, radiant and abundant,

In all its glory and irony and with all its might,

Hope cannot be given,

It is always found.