Waiting. . .

Waiting

Waiting. . .
Still waiting. . .
Waiting for another good break.
Waiting for a chance to show the world who I really am.
Waiting for love to strike me and send me into a state of bliss.
Waiting to break out from these bonds called school and fly free to the world outside.
Waiting for a friend to help me up when I’ve fallen.
Waiting for people to see something in me aside from my music and my kindness.
Waiting for the music and the rhythm and the words to flow inside me easily like blood flows easily through my veins.
Waiting for someone to guide me in this path called life.
Waiting to finally reach the light at the end of the tunnel and be freed from my present condition, a condition of oppression and prejudice.
But mostly, waiting for the day that I meet my maker, the day I feel God’s warm, loving embrace.

Because when I try to get out of this state I call waiting, when I reach out to the mighty hand of God, when I try to soar to the heavens like I’ve always dreamed of, all I really do is give myself a chance to fall. . . to fall and fail.

Am I forever destined to be in this state of failure. . . this state of mind? Will all my dreams and wishes shatter like glass as the hand that grasps it lets go knowing that there is no other way out or to be thrown away as easily as trash to the burning fire of failure and turn into ash right in front of me, just like everything else I’ve tried? Am I fated to travel on the road of broken dreams and broken lives? Is this really how I am to live?

All I am is stranded. . . stranded and waiting. Waiting forever in the abyss I call my mind.

But someday I’ll get out. Just you watch me.