Waiting, waiting, waiting. Tik-tok. Tok-tik.
Minute hand edging as you sit.
When you must wait for your entire life,
Waiting becomes no more a sign of strife.
Even as you sit in the sheltered boughs
Turning over wherefores, whys, whos and hows,
It is that which you are accustomed to,
A bit tedious, but nothing new.
Yet you must dream. If not, your soul will cease
To bring you up. And put you down. And geese
Won’t come to bestow on you your thorny crown.
And she might not glide across the dancefloor,
To give you what you want. And so much more.
To incarnate your hopes, your fears and dreams
In another body bursting at the seams
With blood, life, and so much vitality
It almost drives you to insanity.
Kerrrrr-ack. Tinkling, tumbling down, your world dies.
She said No. Get lost. Or maybe she let you down
gently.
Time to run.
Go.
Now.