The Wait
What would you do if I could not wait,
would not wait for you?
You would never see me in evening
or in the morning's dew.
All the things that come alive
for my eyes to see
would not be looked upon by you,
only seen by me.
For I cannot wait. My life ticks away
and my body withers too fast.
And all this waiting has taken its toll
and I feel I will not last.
So the clock stops now. The wait is gone
and the time with you, no more.
And of course I know what you will think,
'What was she waiting for? '
poem by Edwina Reizer
Added by Poetry Lover
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