by Amy Niggel
I'm growing tired
I'm sick of my vapor heritage
and the twin specters of memmory and knowledge
they haunt my dreams
and keep me awake in the night.
I want something solid
to take shape from the writhing mists of time
something I can hold
and be content in the knowledge
that though time may change the appearance of the symbol
it can't ever change the thing itself.
I am not asking for eternity
I'm asking for my due.
I fell so hard and so fast,
so unlike myself really.
And I'm still waiting to see if you'll fall.
I'm here waiting,
for you to be more
than just an afterimage
of the love I once had.
Posted on 02/23/2005
Copyright © 2021 Amy Niggel
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by JD Clay on 06/08/05 at 12:47 PM|
Mmmm! This is an interesting way of looking at a relationship in it's infancy. It sort of leaves the reader to wonder if it ever works out.