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 It's the waiting

 

It's the waiting, not knowing,

That hurts me the most,

The silence, the distance,

The dead telephone.

 

There is no distraction,

There is no relief,

There's no way of knowing,

When lovers don't speak.

 

I worry the floorboards,

They creak with dismay,

I'm waiting to hear,

But not one word today.

 

But then comes the joy,

The blessed caprice,

It wasn't all over,

It was just silly me.

 

© Joseph G Dawson