Poem 93- Somewhere inside, so deep it cannot be seen

Somewhere inside, so deep it cannot be seen

You asked whether it was there, deep
Inside. I’ll hazard a guess it might be, but
I have no proof, no reason to believe it is.
Maybe, I hope it is, like so many other concepts
I wish I could see. But repeating history leads me to
Believes hope shrivels as it gets no response.
But that’s the way. Hope begets more hope? Right?
Or is hope the precursor to dissolution of mind
And the end of illusion?
Illustrate a world where hope for the feeling deep inside
Is only enhanced by failure. And I show
A path to a place where childish fantasy
And care are the only instructions,
And life is lived on the smoke of dreams
Made perfect, trapped in a bubble.

So, I guess, I hope so, I hope its somewhere
There deep down inside, somewhere I can’t see
It. But it’s warm and safe on a paved street
Sign posted with memories of antiques and
Experiences so far off my little self no longer
Remembers