Stagnant and petrified,
I'm standing still, quite terrified
of the path you've set before my eyes.
I have to wait to see it come alive.
But the waiting, it kills me.
And if I'm not already dead inside,
tomorrow I'll be quite surprised
to see myself still standing by
in this world filled only with todays.
Why can't it be tomorrow?
Why can't it all be here?
The waiting kills me -
the waiting paralyzes me with fear.
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Author:
Christina K (
Offline) - Published: September 3rd, 2017 21:04
- Comment from author about the poem: part 1 - fear
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 65
Offline)
Comments1
That waiting is filled with moments, those moments are important, grab them with all your heart they will not come again and as each of those moments is treasured you will find that tomorrow is all too soon upon you.
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