high hopes, low expectations
You'll have to forgive me for being stoic.
But things won't work out, and I know it.
When you offered me the trip of dreams,
When my success you're quick to deem
Imminent and sure,
I didn't believe your professions.
It's not aggression nor depression;
I've just been disappointed too often,
So high expectations I shake off in
Contempt, despite their allure.
👁 6💬 2
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
puffin
I'm a very busy physics major who writes "poetry" sometimes. I'm really into dadaism and the artistic revolution of the 1960s, and, cringey though it may sound, I think there should be a revival of that movement, which may be why I stick around here sometimes. It may be worth mentioning that I'm an atheist; I appreciate your religious sentiment, but all you'll get back from me is humanly good will.
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (2)
Log in to leave a comment.