Upon that bench alone he sits,

along with him sits a few misfits.

Heartache and pain,

coupled with unbounded love infused in his every grain.

Twisting & turning,

they take him about,

onto a journey riddled with doubt.

He knows not where, which way to turn,

to rid himself of these incineration and burns.

Memories of love puts a salve on the burn,

yet another misfit arrives – feelings of yearn.

And so return again like fire after rain,

the same feelings of heartache and pain.

He waits for her to come back soon,

that same person before who left his home.

With whom he envisioned a lifetime together,

with whom he was closer than ever,

Yet he sits there – she does not arrive,

was she real or his imagination alive?

She who penetrated his innermost wall,

she whom he trusted like he never trusted anyone at all.

Still, he sits there, tranquil, abating,

journeying with those misfits, yearning and waiting.

2 thoughts on “Waiting”

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