That's life for you. Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving something more than that thing loves them. And after awhile you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can't hurt you any more.

Waiting

Have you ever wondered
What little bit of knowledge
Is necessary to secure sanity?
It is indeed a little bit,
Such a very tiny bit,
And with its growth comes loss;
Loss not of one thing but of all.
To open your eyes and look
Beyond your closed door
Means much more than to see.
It means to taste,
To touch,
To feel.
It is a futile effort put forth
To win the heart of love,
To watch the comings and goings
Of so many minds, while,
At the selfsame moment,
Yours starves.
Waiting - it seems all I live to do -
Waiting for her return,
When all the while I remain unsure
Of exactly who she is.
I do, though, love her
More than life itself,
And my waiting will continue
Until she should return,
If ever.
I have run away from ignorance,
And therein lies my folly.
If I could return,
Forget the very nature
Of she who goes unnamed,
Then maybe I could live,
Or make ammends with life.
I wish for nothing,
A tad bit less
Than that which I now have.

8/10/04