she showered in her morning hope 
untangled from arrays 
of fixed and rigid system-folk 
who plague her nowadays —- 

and where the water once flowed clear 
she finds entrapping mire, 
the dreams that were her memories 
she fears will soon expire 

but there is hope, there’s ever hope 
beyond analysis —- 
you think there’s nothing there for you, 
but there is, friend, 

there is