I waited
The waiting started with hours
They were haunting and cold, it was all unexpected and new
The hours slowly creeped into days
They started off long and hard, but I still waited
I prayed for the time to go faster. I watched other kids get their reunions
I just needed to wait for mine.
The days turned into months
They said it would get easier, but it just got harder
It was like my emotions kept going back in time, I wasn’t following the set 5 rules
I knew that there was no point in waiting but I still let myself hope that there was somehow a purpose of it all
The days added up until it was fully a year
A year of waiting. Then two. Then seven.
I know there’s no purpose in waiting for the dead. I know they won’t come back.
I know that all of the waiting was pointless. But I still find myself waiting. Why?

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This Poems Story

I was nine when my dad passed away. I used to imagine he was just in the army. And I would get one of those ‘homecoming’ videos. That was something I clung to, because I didn’t want to believe he was gone.