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The Wait

Each Second; an hour, waiting. Constantly waiting. For you. Can't you see I'm shaking, quaking? Destroyed masterfully by a shiver - tearing up my spine, ripping me deep. Still, I wait for your promise of simple words, Yet words are the only things that mean, anything. Anymore. Cold has struck higher, harder hacking me deeply. Cut into veins of ice, now I'm devoid of hope. Any hope of you. Numb overtakes me, lacerates me, berates me each limb now lost, only for you. Misguided I am left. Waiting. An Eternity of waiting. Left, No hope. No feeling. Alone.

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Mark Goodson

Date: 3/6/2012 11:20:00 AM

In 1984, I had a close female church friend who was dieing of cancer. Her husban had left her 3 years prior too.We talked several times, arranging for her 2 children to be taken care of after her death, family finances, funneral arrangments, etc. The last Sunday she attended church, we talked again. The single most important aspect of her closing condition was the "waiting." She was helpless and couldn't do a thing about it. I am reminded of her through your poetic words. Thanks for her memmory!

Bethany Chipperfield
Date: 3/6/2012 11:40:00 AM

I am really sorry for your loss however I'm glad my poem can offer you memory to her, thankyou for your comment

Carol Sunshine Brown

Date: 2/16/2012 8:26:00 AM

I am stopping back today to see if you have continued to write and post new poetry Beth. I hope that you will continue with your writing. You have taken the first step~ ~to write and share. When you feel the need for inspiration read some of the other poetry here at PoetrySoup. It will help you and I will stop by again to read your poems. Love, Carol