(Hope this is not trash) Poetry

Waiting II*

This is a game
we used to play
in childhood --

          us
crying out
          for our mother's
warm milk,
to be sterilized

          for a change
of diapers, that perfect fit
that wouldn't fall
and trip us,

          for quiet
to come, the hush
of a thousand melodies
lulling us to sleep,

          for love.

This is a game
we used to play
in kindergarten --

          us
with our lunch boxes
only to be taken away
by bullies who wait
by the trees, by the playground

          for a mother's embrace.

          us
with our bruised
knees, feelings
          l a i d   o u t
in the clinic where
a nurse will take away
          the pain
with a swab and

          a kiss.

This a game
we used to play
in school --

          for friends
to flock around us
          for people
to call us names
          at midnight,

send us to detention if we don't
behave well enough

gives us marks
          for performances
to make it

          to the next level.

This is a game
we used to play
at work  --

          for people
to make us coffee,
          for that gold watch,
pink slip,
that needed vacation,

          for a break.

          *****
Everyone knows this game:

kids waiting
for presents, toys
too expensive to be
          bought

teenagers waiting
for that right age
to come, to be able to
          drink, drive, gamble

parents waiting
for their children
to grow up, come home
          before midnight

The lover
makes the same plea

The old
for their skin to age

For beauty
to pass into another life

Even books wait
to be read, food to be eaten

And the trees wait
          for the changing
of seasons, as we wait
          for the changing

          of our souls.

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A/N: Just in case anybody is wondering why there is a II after Waiting and there is no first poem in this collection. There will be none as I am not publishing it (it's really cringy and to be honest I don't know where that collection went, probably in the garbage).
 
This second poem with the same title has no relation or it's not a continuation of the first and can be a stand-alone piece.
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