Mondays are just Young Fridays

Days keep moving forward
and still we patiently wait
for another shoe to drop, the
morning alarm, correct words
or proper moment, courtesy
or a cure (at least a sign); we
want to feel safe from harm
or harassment, having already
tasted too much.
We wait for the courage,
attitudes to change, still sensing
delay or simply finding it strange
(and it may ever have been).
We don’t catch a break, can’t get
past the dire situation we were
sure we could easily outlast.
Waiting it out,
we cannot find the time, we
waited too long, yet continue
waiting for minutes to pass.
Waiting for when we will not
have to temper or examine
our response, knowing or
expecting something else is
coming. When will we get there?
Why does it take so long?
Time waits for no one.
We all wait for time.

04/12/2021 j.g.l.

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