The Hopeless Hope

Fourty-Eight- Waiting

Waiting

I am waiting for the day when my mom will realize

That I understood reality
And she'll know not to emphasize;
The things that only seemed a pity
Those that spoke behind a closed door
Is what I'll never care about
They'll see nothing and no more
I say with no doubt
The world never recognized what was treasured
In a child's heart nor her words
They wait for love that cannot be measured
But given a pain they cannot afford
The sun stared down to the disappointed ones
Who wanted no more of her light
Enjoying her hear were none
They waited for her to free the night
The girl next door was always the same
Hearing her scream was a usual nightmare
But hers was that no one knew her name
Other's life is only what she's left to compare
She waited till her soul left
Her leave only cared by one
The one who was known for theft
A victim for something he hasn't done
The only murder he accepted
Was his hidden love for her
His feelings to express he waited
Too late! Once and always was a stranger
An orphan by heart, lost in real
A mother who loved no more, no one
A father who is forced with a deal
To prove his guiltless son
Ashamed to exist
Brought up a broken family
With a woman carrying a broken wrist
And a bird which felt sorry
She too missed her little kid
A little one which knew no own blood
By a human who loved it more than she ever did
It was kept from the cold
A boy who had just it to expect
He waited again to be adopted
He wanted love, just like his pet
As he realizes the more offended
He makes a change to the ones
Who spend day and night falling to their knees
Charity, in his blood it runs
For the poor is the souls he craves to please
The poor who heard an ant had spent too long
In the place where his mother last stepped
He waited to know what she had done wrong
The elders knew it was something too usual for how he wept
They all look the same yet they differ
Souls who cared were too odd;
The truth was always bitter
As struggles were heard only for a nod
The world will only be this gray
As innocents practice for the words, their last shall say
And everyday will never be the one day
In which we'll find for the peace we pray!