Friday, 16 August 2013

Waiting poem

So long since I last saw your face
the warmth of your hand is a memory
a memory I wont let fade
The war it tore so much apart
but I sit here and wait for our lives to re-start
So long I sit here as lines begin to grow
and marks burnish my hands
I grow old as time trudges on
but still I wait for you to come back.
I wait for you to come home.
But the darkness of death does arrive
and the light of my life goes out
I walk into the mist, a lost and ended life
I see you, surely its you, as real and strong as I knew
standing there you smile at me and say
"I've been waiting for you"
Oh but I didn't know
you too were waiting for me to come home

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