Waiting…

sometimes

in the late sleeping-hours

I can hear them

old memories

washing ashore

insomniacs

frolicking about

in the shadows of the room

like young children

staring into the future

wondering why I’ve lingered

existent in the moment

procrastinating

at poeticizing them

they wonder as wanderers do

when will they come to rest

and dream in the minds

of others who will

vicariously impersonate

a life to be relived…

4 thoughts on “Waiting…

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