By wistful Date: 2002 Apr 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.04.08.02.46.23961]] |
The phone rings and I jump sky high Heart racing, full of hope, I blunder All alone to the phone. And with trembling hand I answer Hearing just my pulse's thunder Is it you? Is it true? As I hear a nameless voice Selling this week's cleaning wonder I decline and drop the line. Unvoiced screams explode within me Rip my fragile calm asunder As the tears tell my fears Racked by endless hours of waiting Rapidly I'm going under From the pain of this strain. Yet I wait in fevered tension Once again to sit and wonder If you'll call me at all. . . |