I am discontent,
and could wait until the feeling,
Becomes a haunting memory,
But I am at this moment,
Already wavering,
In my eminent need to relent.
What by nature,
Is most gracefully remote,
Transforms to bitterness,
With my distant gazing.
I turn my weary head,
to ask the passing gleam,
But the sidewalk scene,
Has grown hollow to me.