Sonnet 1
November 5th 2009 04:59
So can your wait turn on me?
Or can your wait, our wait become?
The subtle and the tiny glee,
Of the pining and the waiting one, alone,
I do much rather the lost and wondering
The pacing, the looking at the phone
The nervous stammer, the blundering,
The restless sleep, with dreams merging
With the wanted real,
The thumping chest and heart serging,
The state where everything and nothing feels,
But unfortunately, for me I s'pose, it is you this time
Me not so concerned with your attention and you restless wanting mine.
Or can your wait, our wait become?
The subtle and the tiny glee,
Of the pining and the waiting one, alone,
I do much rather the lost and wondering
The pacing, the looking at the phone
The nervous stammer, the blundering,
The restless sleep, with dreams merging
With the wanted real,
The thumping chest and heart serging,
The state where everything and nothing feels,
But unfortunately, for me I s'pose, it is you this time
Me not so concerned with your attention and you restless wanting mine.
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