Without Hope

From eyes set deep within his baby round face,
Nascent tears glistened like crystal against pools of indigo.
And when his stubborness could hold them back no longer,
They would burst out remorsefully streaking his ruddy cheeks
With tender conscience, and his faults would be absorbed.
He sang wordless songs rich in childhood prophecy about
The opportunities that waited for him just beyond tomorrow.
To have hoped for so much, now he hopes not!