It’s too late, I heard her say And I felt my world Crumble a little It can’t be There’s time There has to be More time I’ve been waiting… I’ve been waiting… I heard myself say Waiting for what? Waiting on who? And how long has this been going on? All my life! My heart responds As the pillars of my life Come crashing down I have been waiting… Waiting for someone to notice To acknowledge And recognize To fix all the broken pieces And make my world right Waiting feels like hope But it is not Waiting keeps me out of today And puts me in a fictitious narrative One that I have no control in writing Simply waiting Isn’t simple It also isn’t very hope-filled It’s the giant pause button We press that brings Us to a standstill Unable to take the next step But if it is too late And I can stop waiting What will become of me? Perhaps I will begin to take notice To acknowledge And recognize Maybe I will pick up the pieces of my own world And create a new one Written with a new narrative One that isn’t based on waiting But on living.

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