It's the waiting that gets you,
while you swim like crazy,
thrashing and kicking,
for the relief of the air
at the water's surface,
the waiting is the hand
that grabs your ankle
pulling you back down.
the waiting, while
you can see your life
veering ahead in two
very different directions,
the path to two futures,
the new job and that promotion,
house sale going through,
the doctor's appointment.
The week stretches ahead
as soulless and lost
as a rainy Sunday afternoon.
It's the waiting
the not knowing
the agony
the ache
the knot in your stomach
the voice that whispers in the night,
what if?
what if?
-
Author:
Tom C Dylan (
Offline) - Published: March 19th, 2024 03:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Alan R, Qurrathul Ain.
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Comments4
Should last line be a repeat 'What if?' It says 'What it'.
Yes, a terrible worry waiting for the No.7 bus too. I waited one Sunday for it for 2 hours. Then someone passed by and said 'Oh, it don't run on Sundays!' Doh! (Did I make that up?).
Thanks for the spot, Orchi. Yep, last line should have repeated. I have edited it now. 🙂 And yeah I agree about the buses.. It's the 67 for us.. must be related. 🙂
I fall into playing 'What If...' sometimes. it's a horrible 'game'. Though things often work out not as bad as we thought in our 'what if' times of worrying.
Dang it! I also waited for the No.11 bus for 2 weeks (eh?) every day. I forgot they took it out of service 3 months ago. lol.
What if all the things we wanted actually came true and happened as we wanted it to? Hey, it could happen. 😁👍
AP, I admire your optimism! 🙂 Thanks, Tom.
So true Tom it is the waiting and not knowing that is hard to deal with at times.
Andy
Yes, very much so. It's the waiting and not knowing that really gets to you. Cheers, Tom.
Very relatable. Superb work.
Thanks a lot, Thomas. Really appreciated.
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