deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Bide My Time
You recoil at my touch
Like a stone, cold and rigid
I'm simple, I don't ask for much
I see no reason for you to be so frigid
I've spent countless restless nights
Tossing and turning in the moons pale glow
Pondering your repulsion to my futile plight
Day in and out, searching, I still don't know
How to move past this recurring dream
Puzzling till my skull splits at the seams
I bide my time
Gentle in the waking hour
Sensitive to the morning light
With one touch, you curdle like milk, so sour
So I close my eyes to shadow the sight
Of a love gone putrid, steeped in rot
Of a past so empty, and so often fraught
By passionless isolation
And tepid alienation
I bide my time, spinning and reeling
Through this forsaken labyrinth of conviction
No action to take to dissolve this feeling
Stoic in its hold on my disposition
Sequestered away in this destitute cell
Every day, one step closer to Hell
I bide my time
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