IMPATIENCE
WRITTEN: OCTOBER 7, 2006
WRITTEN: OCTOBER 7, 2006
As I write with this broken heart, words of sadness seem to appear
My solitary self putting everything down in words, showing all fear
Never pulling away to think, but sometimes drifting off into some distant stare
A gaze that can never be interrupted, so dark and deep and rare
How can one love if they are to be never loved in return?
Something full of promise, full of hope, and never set to burn
That is what one shall wish for and yet some never do see
Patience and happiness come hand in hand, for whatever is to be
I, who has but little of either, tend to move too hastily when waiting is key
And yet as fast as I may go, here I am in one spot unable to agree.
My solitary self putting everything down in words, showing all fear
Never pulling away to think, but sometimes drifting off into some distant stare
A gaze that can never be interrupted, so dark and deep and rare
How can one love if they are to be never loved in return?
Something full of promise, full of hope, and never set to burn
That is what one shall wish for and yet some never do see
Patience and happiness come hand in hand, for whatever is to be
I, who has but little of either, tend to move too hastily when waiting is key
And yet as fast as I may go, here I am in one spot unable to agree.