The world is between us But we shall not be separated Our mistakes blind us But we shall not be lost Bitterness is in our mouths But we shall not become bitter The wide way is dark But there is a bright close one of separation and sorrow And again union.
Hope, in Michael John Pickering's poem, isn't a cheerful feeling. It is a stubborn refusal. Again and again the speaker names something painful, then answers it with "but we shall not." The world stands between two people, mistakes cloud their judgment, and bitterness sits in their mouths.
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