how many tragedies must I write?
how many eulogies must I speak?
how many tears must I cry?
‘til I grow old and weak
from this waiting?

longing faced with desire,
burning faced with regret;
patiently I admire
the faces I have met
that are not him.

has life carved out a path?
has god something to atone?
has my time come for death?
or am I only just alone
and so lonely?

grieving mixed with relief,
hoping mixed with fate,
scribing only briefs 
of endless (endless!) dates.

how many poems must I write?
how many thoughts must I think?
how many wrongs must I right?
‘til I am no longer on the brink
of oblivion?

Brinn Wallin

This poem was created and written by Brinn Wallin. Please do not steal or copy without permission. 

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