Literature
Wasted Time
Fatigue is beginning
To take a toll on me,
Proving to be quite a
Formidable opponent.
My lids are heavy,
Straining to keep open.
All I can hear is my
Bed calling my name.
It's after midnight and
I'm still waiting for you,
Just sitting there quietly
Until you finally arrive.
For four long hours have
I been on constant vigilance,
Yet still there is a faint
Emptiness in your presence.
The anticipation's now lost,
Drying up without no trace.
Slowly my patience vanishes,
Transforming into boredom.
Heavens know of my attempts
To try keep myself occupied.
Manacles of time has seized
Remnants of mental stimulation.
You're neve