Hope is the thing with a whip
That's always there at my back
Shoving me on to tomorrow--
Crack! Crack! Crack!
It drags me through the days,
And scrapes me up real bad;
Or grabs me by the scruff of my neck
And shakes when I feel sad.
Hope is the thing from Hell,
I bolt whenever I see
It clamoring up from its sulfurous hole--
I hope it's not coming for me.
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