Prisoner of hope

So this is it?
There's no really fun here on earth, only work...
What we call fun is a waste of time.
And time is what you make use of,
  like my grand father will always "
   make use of your life for something."
This is where we have a problem of choice...
She makes me a prisoner of hope,
 full of expectancy.
I can't help it but to be in chained with believe.
Sometimes I feel like I'm loosing my grip.
Global recession leave us alone.
She told me not to postpone my dreams,
 don't cancel your plans b/c of me.
Allow me to lay hold of your pleasant ways.
Here is the work of the universe...
She is shouting,
 who has a claim against me that I must pay.

thank you

love