42 Plus Plus Plus
There they were again,
the double digits on my clock,
11:11; 1:01; 8:08; 14:14
Should they be significant?
I. Don't. Know.
Someone once told them they were.
In a freaky kind of way,
but I don't pay much mind.
It is just kind of unnerving sometimes,
glancing at a clock. seeing those digits.
I sigh yet again,
because looking at clocks
takes me someplace and sometime else.
I have found myself
glancing at the time less
for an entirely different reason.
Anvil feeling within me now,
when before it was more like a feathery feel.
Going to that place
where I want to knock on your door.
In fact, I almost did today
but I unclenched my fist as my knuckles
almost hit the wood
It's not that I don't want to,
more like I feel you don't want me to.
And even if I did,
I find myself expecting that you won't open the door,
not that I don't have faith...
You see,
expecting is different from hoping.
Where expectations come from logic, the mind
and from what you've so far shown,
I have come to expect that the door remains shut.
Playful sadness, coldness, sighness.
But I still hope, since that comes from the heart.
Damn it. The perennial hopeful in me.
Am I foolish? Stupid? So be It.
At least I have faith, hope...love.
My fuel each day.
Speeding along on track number 4.
Numbers running, running, flying
spanning greater distances between us,
and I feel that gap even more so now.
Numbers climbing, climbing each day
but there's one set of numbers
that I am hoping one day to see go up,
not stopping there.
42 plus plus plus.
Copyright © Kaye S- | Year Posted 2013
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