I hate waiting– with impatient breath
I cannot tame the rage I irrationally make.
Doom and gloom are my favorite fate
an escape from reality when I am caught up–
what is there to do, but wait?
For an end to a means, or even destiny
to accumulate in one long moment
that might demonstrate existential importance,
maybe that’s what I’m waiting for–
an epiphany to explain what it means to be,
a truth that comes from the consequence of being
rather than seeming to see enlightenment.
A revolution that revolves around social conscious–
the act of caring past the current moment,
perhaps, that is what we need.