A piece of Poetry: Waiting

Waiting: By Alisha M. Wielfaert

Restless.  Incomplete. Wild and patient. Days are long but time is flying fast around me. There went a year.

My heart stirs.  Slowly, sadly stirring. The more I do the emptier I feel.  Exhaustion, emptiness are my friends.  Politely waiting. For what?  I'm not sure. But I'm waiting, working.