Waiting

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The sun rises, but the warmth has not yet reached me
The cold bites at my skin but I am unmovable
I stay silent and wait for you
Til’ Six

That’s what you told me.
In your letter
That you would be back
At Six

You never returned
Yet I wait every day
Every morning.
The trees have grown tall now
Taller than me. And you.

I wonder where you are
Please come home
Because though the sun rises
The warmth has not yet reached me
The cold bites my skin but I am unmovable

I stand waiting, while the cold eats at me.
Waiting…
For you.





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lostnhim said...
Feb. 22, 2010 at 9:01 pm
I think that this is a great poem and that you have a way with words. Keep writing!
 
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