This impatience
is of the learned sort,
a defense against
the anxious.
Action thwarts the what if
even if it still exists,
but a rolling rock gathers no thoughts
of failure.
I want this.
Both the victory
and the failure,
unrealized love means life goes
as it has.
It is too long,
the space between my decision
and hers.
I want this.
How terrifying
that I might be wrong.
Or right.
About the Creator
Poet Dill
Poetry is to me what for others is to breath, part the heart, part the soul, part the brain, parts as whole. Both to write and to read come so naturally in diverse styles, serious and play. I'm a poet.
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