I sit

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I sit;


Folded hands


Crisped smile;


Eager for tomorrow.


But tomorrow never comes;


Not when it is desired


Nor when it is required.


So I am buried


In the snow of forgotten time,


Cold and alone


Breathing in the fumes of this decision.


Anticipation;


It’s so hollow


When tomorrow does not exist.


 


So I sit;


Clenched hands


Fading smile;


Suffocating on this dream


Contemplating the sun


As she glistens


But yearning for the moon


And her soft breath.


Indecision is a sin;


But I know,


When tomorrow comes


Absolution,


For hesitation


For obligation


For me;


 


But tomorrow never comes.


And so I sit.

Created: Jul 21, 2012

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a_still_life Document Media