Sitting, Waiting Poem by Miranda Oney

Sitting, Waiting,
on what, I've yet to determine.
Life and all its existence passing by,
slowly, tediously.
Time seems eternal to our likes.
We want much, so much, more.
Living, breathing,
we drone on through this world,
dreaming of the next that may not exist.
Faith, Love,
all is wanted and needed,
but none is truly found.
Uncertainty, sorrow,
depths of our world fade
in and out of existance.
Hoping, wishing,
wanting more to to this world,
wanting everything to be perfect.
Waiting, waiting.