Like the leopard-
     Affixed with unchanging spots,
     Or the zebra-
     All white with black stripes
     Or probably black with white stripes;
     Some things do not change.

     Like the parable of the ten virgins-
     Out at night with a oil lamp,
     Anticipating, anticipating, anticipating.


     It doesn’t only sound desperate,
     It looks the part too;
     Even at these desperate times.

     Waiting is easy,
     Except that these are windy nights.

     For how long can the hand shield the light
     From the gusty old wind?
     For how long can the body
     Withstand the cold?
     It is indeed a test,
     A test of strength and character;

     But then, it only takes so long,
     To stop fighting…
     Especially when it might just have been blown
     Out of proportion;
     Or worst still, been a one-sided desire.

     The pecks of being pragmatic are ample;
     Even when trying not to jump into conclusions,
     Or disrespect decisions and resolutions,
     The present has to be upheld,
     And the future kept in glaring gaze.

     But again, if the price to pay,
     For a priceless prize, is waiting,
     What other option there is?!


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