Eagles Flying Couldn'T Have Taught Me More Poem by Rebecca Stansfield

Waiting, waiting,
is a endless remark,
and whilst we're both living,
how can we wait?
There was a time when,
I thought I saw the end,
but I know I can't see it,
now I've come do far.
And eagles flying,
couldn't have taught me more,
I've forgotten what us both,
were even fighting for.
The burrow is melting,
but into something more solid,
when water is finally drained,
it must go somewhere,
and eagles flying,
could not have taught me more,
what I have learnt from you,
and I'll always want more.