A Life In Waiting Is a Weight In Living

A life in waiting is a weight in living, the more you shove your tongue down the swallowed route the more you'll be wrung and suffering breath for the mute. If I didn't have an Offence- O-meter I would be happier, but I would also be accosted. A life in waiting is a weight in living, Crawling to walking Strengthens the caulking on the runners stalking, and zip zip zips the tips of your toes to the ground. Who'll make the sound of the morbid when you're done? A life in waiting is a weight in living, and the weight of existence is a reminiscence of what you missed, whilst everyone else kissed the hate, the love, the livid, the missed, the depressed, the rigid, everyone is tangled and together we are a bit mangled but all as one, is one for all. And without you we'll eventually fall. Patience is a virtue, and wildness too, and so we live privileged and restricted, and we wait for the wake of all our dreams come true, but this life of waiting is a life I'll never of knew. Take a picture and pass it on, circle the differences until you're done, and when you're fed up of waiting in your tower of political correctness of purification failure of nothing but age, turn to the mirror and see the lines you grew without the rain having ever fallen on their cracks you never drew.