Zandi Wardle (South Africa)
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.
Comments about this poem (By the bench. by Zandi Wardle )
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