By the bench.
I have come to think that maybe love isn’t for me.
Each time, I hope; crossing my fingers that the one I meet is the one.
I have quit looking for the best qualities but I now hope for the one who’ll make me smile.
I have fed my brain with knowledge that could help me get prepared for this war,
I had hoped I’d come out alive and victorious
From these bullets that hit me hard, leaving me with wounds I hope will heal
Still I come back like I never made an impact
I feel like a contender, who’s so strong but not for this game
what is it that I am not doing right?
See, Ive tried,
Tried to be a perfect combination of fun and keeper
Yet…still I don’t succeed!
Always at the cutting edge of nowhere close by,
I feel like this…that I search for daily, maybe… might have deserted me,
Kept me at its worst as I stand in thirst
I long for this quench that will be great for my heart
I keep my eyes open... yet to see the apple of my eye,
I wait on this rhythm that should make my heart skip a beat
I hope to find the warmth that others have in their cold nights and rainy days
I am yet to feel the presence of the one I day dream about
The one I imagine
The love of my life who isn’t perfect but perfect enough for me…
Still I wait…by the side of the bench, I, ve scribbled all of it on this paper...
Hoping that one day, my prayers will be heard.
Zandi Wardle's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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