Short Waiting Game Poems
Short Waiting Game Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Waiting Game by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Waiting Game by length and keyword.
Wasting time on this waiting game
Tomorrow and the next, something remains the same
that you and I are fiction
and you and she are fact
perfecting
the waiting game
is feeling each flicker
of heart lotus blossoming
whilst resting seeking
and anticipating
by vaporising
02-June-2023
Waiting for the inevitable
Fearful it'll never arrive
Letting the universe decide
What will be will be
But did I earn the right to enjoy the ride?
~BITE SIZE POEM no25 Poetry Contest
Do we all feel the same,
Is life just a waiting game
Why? do some, live so long,
Is it because they are strong,
Or have they more to learn,
And have not yet earned,
The peace that we all desire,
When we expire.
He breaks your heart
Tears you down and apart
Lip buttoned, your kid shuts you out
Where to turn, How to start...
Extra patience is called for
It's a waiting game
Confrontation only gets you
More of the same
His heart is golden
full of passion for someone
like himself
He waits patiently year after year
dating here and there
with no luck
Thinking all this time that
he'll never find his love
Living one day at a time
Still waiting patiently
I always knew I would find you, I just never knew your name. But long at last I found you, after what seemed a waiting game. The
moment I look into your eyes to my surprise I knew. The one I had been waiting for in my dreams in my heart was you.
Conspire with the void
Blow vast space a kiss
Wink at time as it mocks
Celebrate immersion in life
Then wait
For as long as it takes
Neither seeking nor anticipating
Simply remaining attentive
And mindful
Good things await
Have faith
I lost my job today
Because my boss couldn't pay
He thought it was okay
And I'd work another day
Without being paid no way
Was all I could say
Pick up keys he may
Tuesday I'll fix your pay
What more could he say
The waiting game I play!
26/12/2017
You gave me hope.
I waited and waited.
It wasn't ment to be.
You didn't come.
You set me free,
so I can see the better option....
The sun, the moon ,the sea....
I walked my shadow home.
The rest is history my dear...
You ever gave me hope.
Tomorrow was a day too late
remorse spent a sleepless night of blame.
Yesterday’s gone without warning
regret's second-chance now has no aim.
Today’s lament sounds so empty
reconciliation woke to shame.
What's wrong with being truthful?
Not speaking up is a waiting game.
Forge a waiting game
Trace a festive flame
Spice the end game cheer
Watch how time sparks clear
No vain wordings fit
Little bits of wit
Dream of happy date
Patience bears kind fate
Chance upon the prize
Meet with fond surprise
Play the waiting game
Be beyond all blame
Leon Enriquez
17 May 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
By roadside bench
Choked drains fling stench
Bus-stop crowd waits
Time flings the bait
Sleepy dawn streams
Day edges dreams
Mobile apps style
Selfie and smiles
Each with stray thoughts
Each fiddles plots
This waiting game
Brings much the same
Dawn lights a face
We ply new trace
Leon Enriquez
27 August 2015
Singapore
Death comes in many forms
It has many faces
Could be anywhere
Anything
It could be fast and thoughtless
Don't know what has happened
Until it's too late
Death can be slow and painful
An agonizing waiting game
Watching the Darkness cover your eyes forever
Staring out yet seeing nothing
A bright light?
A door?
What is it?
Such a Deathly Mystery
The "others" are out there and always have been.
Just outside the periphery of
our rudimentary technology
four light-years ahead of
our feverish calamity.
They're a patient breed.
That's their greatest strength...
Playing the waiting game.
Waiting for us to self-destruct.
Then, like locusts, they'll descend to take the reins.
The owners of a new-age garden of calamity.
Surely I see
Just let things be
An empty page
No words to stage
A blank blur feel
Words cannot heal
A waiting game
Verse fail to name
An unsure craft
Urge lines to draft
A limbo here
No lines to steer
A lost of text
What will come next?
A surge surely
To write truly
No words to write
No thoughts to cite
Leon Enriquez
01 March 2015
Singapore
Life between the highs and lows
Is stable, or one would suppose,
Yet that might not be true at all –
When high, you’re waiting for the fall.
And naturally, when you are low,
There is no way for you to know
How long until your saddened state
Will vanish, so again you wait.
So life becomes a waiting game.
If being stable is your aim,
When on a high, I’d answer hah!
When low, more likely, I’d say bah!
What’s a cure for longing now
Can it be the same
Notes of silence that endow
With the waiting game
You refuse to recognize
Anything you knew
Till it doesn’t come like lies
Till you know it’s true
Wait, and wait, for what is sought
Like you did before
Till you realize you’ve got
All you’ve been longing for
What to call a cure here
In this apperception
Pain subdued, so dream is near
Never mind deception.
Talent rarely leads to fame
Though many play the waiting game,
Thinking if they just believe,
The things they want, they will achieve.
But luck’s a factor we can’t trust;
Expecting it turns dreams to dust.
It’s best to take defeat in stride
While never letting hope subside.
The irony, as you may guess,
Is that, for many, their success
Won’t bring the joy and peace of mind
That those with less success may find.
What’s a cure for longing now
Can it be the same
Notes of silence that endow
With a waiting game
You refuse to recognize
Anything you knew
Till it doesn’t come like lies
You won't know it’s true
Wait for more, for what is sought
Like you did before
Till you realize you’ve got
All you’ve been waiting for
What to do it you’re not here
In this apperception
Pain subdued, so dream is near
Never mind deception.
The ides of March sing consideration
for widows who must accept that new name.
The guides of March bring realization:
life, as it was, will never be the same.
The tides of March trace recalibration
as adjustments to the world we re-frame.
I confide this March in my Salvation.
Where do skeptics go in grief’s waiting game?
The offsides of March face deliberation.
mistakes made, can we move on without blame?
"I'm not who You've waited for,
After all these years.
I know that you hoped for more,
But I'm facing fears.
You're a perfect kind of guy,
You deserve the world,
Not the drama of the life
That comes with this girl.
You deserve someone special,
That can treat you right.
Not waiting for me until,
You use up your light".
She'll never understand,
the twinkle in my eye,
Burned from want to hold her hand,
And I can't watch it die.
Beyond these realms, there is no sense of fear,
Mystery reveals a different breath,
A warm embrace to hold the soul so dear,
While in her loving arms we wait for death,
And see her smile, at last she’s standing near.
The end is nothing, let her come tonight,
For death is merely beginning anew,
Thus trust the soul to know the time is right,
As it discards the dismal mortal view,
And leaves to dance within her sacred light.
Form: Sicilian Quintains
Over the city
the sun begins its
trip
Dawn's answer is
that
life must begin anew
The pale shadows
which come with
nightfall
Signal the end
of daytime frolics
We live by the
silent music of the
sun
One thousand and
one tales
will be told
in
the
future
but for now
we must play a waiting game
experience
sun and moon
and feel their respective power
as we float on
the ship of life
At 6 am, the beach is nice;
And I am headed for a stroll.
At 7, sun is poking out,
I guess I’m still glad on the whole.
I turn around and head back home;
The half-way thoughts somewhat console.
By 8 am, the sun is hot;
I’m drenched with sweat from head to toe,
But I can see the house ahead,
A few blocks down, not far to go.
Once back inside, the A/C on,
The waiting game has now begun
For I will likely hide away
until the day has ditched the sun.