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The Promised Land

No promises are in the Promised Land -
no hopeful notes of nothing cast in sand.
No waiting with the patience of the poor,
nor awful expectations taught of yore.
For promises are not the promised thing -
they trade on hopes of faithfulness and trust;
you live a little longer on a string,
and tell yourself that adulthood is just.
But after years, the fearing sets in stone
that nothing more than 'nuisance' is your name;
your hopes and dreams are soaked in scorn and shame,
and nothing makes you feel quite so alone
as learning each 'perhaps' they ever vow
is never 'yes', and 'soon' is never 'now'.

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