The feeling
-helpless defeat-
hasn't hit for quite some time
-one, two, or three years?-
and it seems I've almost forgotten
-or so I try-
the last conquest.
The feeling
-hopeful indulgence-
hasn't bothered to visit for a while
-two, four, six months?-
and it seems I always give up
-or so I tell myself-
the first good try.
The feeling
-endearing expectation-
hasn't happened upon me just yet
-who knows when?-
and it seems I guard the door
-or so I pretend-
to the organ.
The feeling
-generous content-
has yet to visit my corner
-Oh God, let it come-
and so the world has passed me by
-all for paper and prestige-
as I wait.
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