No lull, not even a loving pull,
this whisky bottle no more full.
Still I am awake staring,
waiting for you, the caring.
Whistles and some hill-town men,
my new life for the days ten.
Fair skins in between hot sips,
chore first, ain't no question of we.
Two wishes of birth, one for a bro;
the other, just letting passions grow.
Maddened by goals and stinging blows,
light and that smile, afar glows.
Now my wish those lovely eyes,
as the bubbles burst on chipped ice.
Green carpet this, will fade one day,
but my heart will be fresh, just turn my way.
Leslie Xavier
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-waiting-rhyme/
