Moment Of Despair Poem by Hal Caufield

I am so pathetic.
I spent the evening
Outside of a Seven-Eleven
Smoking and staring at my car.
As traffic whisked by
On the Boulevard, I tearily
Pondering these words:
“What does it profit a man
If he gains the whole world,
But looses himself.”
And I could not
Figure out the answer,
Except that I am lost,
And must hold on.

But with that most
Precious Morning Sun,
I began to see the light.
I am not lost at all
While she breathes
And rises every morning
To comb her curly golden locks.
Her earthly name may differ,
But her celestial name is Hope.
And while I have not given up
On her, she will not give up on me.
I can the hold world
And not loose myself.
All I need for that is Hope.