It's been a long time since I posted some poetry, huh? Well this poem is still very rough, very new... But I felt the need to get it out there since it's relevant now. By the time it appears in a book (it is coming... one day....) it'll be polished.
my least favorite game is the waiting game,
mainly because i'm impatient
so i always lose.
but also because i don't know the rules...
how long do i wait?
what to do til then?
and if i wait too long do i lose or do i win?
i think of a hundred things
that could have been done better,
that could have been said sweeter
or not at all.
while sitting there, waiting for that call
i'm a nervous wreck
so sure that he's already moved on to the next
and i've only played myself.
during the waiting game it feels like he has
the upper hand
since i leave it to the man to make the move.
but what if i do?
if i make a move instead
i lose the waiting game
but may get closer to my prize...
still, i stay paralyzed
mostly out of fear
and somewhat out of pride.
i check the phone again
but i refuse to dial;
i'm playing the waiting game,
and i'll win,
or lose,
after a while.
