Must I?
Like a burning stinging sight
The tear blurred light
No. Not me.
Eyes so dry
They belong on a British tele
Yet a deadpan face
Belies all that happens inside
And the eager tail-chasing race
Of puppy dog hopes abide
In this eye-browed, scruffy-bearded kennel
In the quiet minutes of the night
I think I must fight
Hours and days
That hang like a weight around my neck
A weight of waiting
And as I weigh theses hours
Against the days that went before
I think I can take a few more
But I want to know what’s in store
So I can purchase or walk away
But that’s not how it works today
That’s just selfish and mean
(As in: on the fence)
That’s not the routine
(I don’t even know how to fence)
I wait?
Not sure, perhaps a few ounces
A few too many perhaps.
Eyes weigh heavily on the mind
Ounces don’t weigh into it
Pounds and tons neither.
A ton perhaps
As a wait and not a weight
A ton of waiting to see those eyes again
But I’ll try the part of a patient man
I’ll play my act
(It’s the little button with the triangle)
Wait for the finale
(And the crescendo!)
Skip the applause
(The joys of modern technology)
Hop off the stage
(I swear it was genuine)
Go out the door
Of this week, month (or however long it takes)
And dance with a smile
Into her arms
Must I wait?
