Wait Long Enough

Wait long enough

and faces morph
into shadows,
shadows stretch into
blurry shapes,
spongy black,
as if the entire void
fell into your eyes
while you were
sleeping.

Wait long enough

and voices drown
in whispers,
whispers freeze
into sheets
of white,
shrouds
for every
silent word
that you were
screaming.

Wait long enough

and smiles tiptoe
into arcs of pain,
pain dances
in the opaque fog,
you canโ€™t remember
what it felt like,
the golden sun,
before it started
raining.

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39 thoughts on “Wait Long Enough

  1. The silent screams stanza is the one the jumped out at me first. It is always the things we hold in. There is truth in that last stanza though on how our sorrows turn to joys.

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  2. I felt the sinking into the world of shadows, sheets of white, and arcs of pain ~ How sad if we don’t remember the golden sun ~ The refrain of wait long enough, made me think it is constantly happening, the loss of those memories ~

    Thanks for linking up with D’verse ~

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  3. Wait long enough & your poem will become magnificent, the prompt will be rocked to its socks, & accolades will be served up by your peers–this is one of those times.

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  4. maybe the key is in not waiting but trying to work on things so that it won’t happen… i’m a certified rain fighter – ha – at least i do my best – not always successful though…

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  5. Ah.. path to dark.. spiraling filling down
    threads light in dark.. stairway
    hell.. slow drift black..
    corners numb
    where eyes
    no longer
    sing
    light..
    Oh..
    passage out..
    seeds of light
    root true in darkest
    nights.. where light blooms
    in darkest cocoons of butterfly wings..
    to delight again flight living.. well flown truth..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I decided early on that my favorite part of this poem was going to be:
    “as if the entire void
    fell into your eyes
    while you were
    sleeping.”
    But the whole is so much more than this one part. Very nice. Peace, Linda

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  7. A sad commentary on life–waiting for the negative, the pain–and yet there are those who spend their lives anticipating such an end. Emotional write, well conceived and executed.

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