He sat in his chair,
A cup of hot coffee by his side,
And watched patiently,
As the hands moved almost unnoticeable,
On the clock that hung on the wall.

Outside the sun lowered,
Drifting behind the rooftops,
As if it had no words,
Comfort for the lonely soul,
Waiting upon a lover’s return.

There was knowledge,
An acceptance of the situation,
To seek that which she urged,
Outside the confines of a ring,
With his knowing and blessing.

And yet there is pain,
An aching of a lost lover,
Of expectations unfulfilled,
Replaced by a primordial alpha male,
Gifting his loved one that which he cannot.

He sits in his chair,
Sips slowly from hot cup,
Wondering how night fell so quickly,
Outside and night is particularly dark,
Reminiscent of the hole in his heart.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


4 thoughts on “Waiting

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