Watch closely as I construct my Monday forecast,
I see clouds shifting this way with bags under its eyes,
A rainy day is approaching,
It's been summer for over a year,
It's been gloomy at times,
I've had the occasional sprinkle,
But, there is a storm headed this direction,
Expectations.
You see, it didn't drizzle that day,
Stuck in a drought, I crave the waters of the sky,
But when you expect things to happen, the head is rotated counter clockwise,
I sit and wait, way too much,
My love used to say that,
The queued are the *******, your patience will let you down like tears from the sky,
I feel her words with every innuendo of new days to come,
Expectations.
They are glorious dreams to rocket a brain into space,
But, what goes up must come down eventually...right?
I tried to think the worst, but when the tears slid down her cheeks, my heart lurched,
It rose with a recharged happiness that I have never felt before,
Once again, her first words spitting "I can't",
Poking a hole in my overinflated pumper, the juice leaks into my stomach,
A wounded gut,
She is always right,
This heart was floating so high, but with a puncture...it scattered like a runaway balloon,
Expectations.
You love em',
You hate em',
But hating them is a quick glance into what is next,
Live for now,
Love later,
Conquer your ridiculous hopes,
Goals-
And those pesky expectations.
