Sit on a bench in the autumn time and watch the falling leaves
tap your fingers on the damp wood; you're waiting, waiting still
The winter wind cuts through your fall coat like a traitor's knife
you sigh your deep sigh and watch it pass you by, while you're waiting
yes, you're waiting
oh, you're waiting, waiting still
The spring breeze carries a wet rot candied cloy--
the ground is damp from the cold bitter rain
...and you're raining, too...
warm and brackish; all you can think is,
why am I still waiting?
But you don't dare move, because you hope,
The grass is dry and brittle
and your throat would like some water, maybe just a little...
a bead of sweat rolls down your neck
as you whittle on that old deck
and you're waiting, waiting still
you haven't stopped waiting.
Your back presses into the mattress, like it used to
and someone's holding you, your hand
you don't know who
but it isn't the person for whom you waited
...for so long...
you never stopped waiting, but he never came to you.
Love, I'm waiting, too. I'm waiting,
still waiting for you.
Remember when we said,
I'll wait for you?
Well, I guess we never really got it worked out,
who was supposed to be waiting for whom
and we just sat out there, the both of us
in the cold, cold bitter rain, as life passed us by.
Ha ha, yeah...
...I guess it doesn't matter much anymore.
Well, it's autumn here again, and the leaves, they fall around your grave
I'll come by next year,
and I'll drop a flower here, like I always do
I'll always wonder, you know, how it could've been...
but I never stopped waiting for you.
- by in a pinto forever |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 08/11/2011 |
- Title: Waiting
- Artist: in a pinto forever
This poem explores the ravages of inaction.
I wrote this yesterday. It was getting late and, staring blankly off into the setting sky through my window, my mind yet again began to wander. Ever see those little hearts with the names, that couples like to carve into public property? At the time, I'm sure it meant more to them than the act of defacing property. Now, though, I'm not sure its creators even remember it. know what I mean?
- Date: 08/11/2011
- Tags: waiting freeverse narrative poem warning
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...