The Right Time That Never Comes Right.

I guess I was waiting for the right moment, perfect constellations, planets align.

However, in waiting I became slightly obsessed, counting coop, no victory, myself I left behind.

 
Waiting always for the right time,

When I guess the right time doesn’t exist right?

Always searching the grounds for a perfect rhyme,

Which translates out to me making a fist at the world.

 
Think I was hoping to find the perfect day, cloudless and uninterrupted, the kind you remember.

Instead, I’d wait through melting ice, growing spring, but nothing moderated that unseeing temper.

 
Waiting forever for the right time,

When I guess the right time is now right?

Perhaps off the banks of the rivers of my crimes,

Between the then and now we can have sight…if only we choose to see and not blind.

Thomas Spychalski 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: