To waste

20 June 2020 ~ W. Donovan

I wasted so many mornings
only lying in bed.
You wasted so much time
trying to show me the beauty
I didn’t want to see.
You were always there
waiting for me
wanting me to start living.
I wasted so many mornings.
Don’t ask me why
I was blind.
Don’t ask my why
I was deaf.
When I finally woke
I hoped everything would change.
It was too late, though
you weren’t there any longer
waiting to show me the world.
Now you’re telling me
to go back where I was.
Now you’re threatening me
to show me the ugliness
I don’t want to see.
Now you’re asking me
to waste every morning.

Published by W. Donovan

Weronika Donovan is an amateur writer and photographer. She's an artistic soul. She was born in Poland, where she was brought up and educated. Her adventure with writing began in her late teens, but she started blogging only ten years later. Her poetry has grown since that time. She started to use words more consciously. She defined the journey of her life, portraying it in four volumes of poetry. First of them called 'Ghosts' was self-published in 2019. Weronika is a loner. She likes wandering to interesting places, always choosing her own path. View all posts by W. Donovan