Depth

Wasting in waiting,
Wading in wanting,
So many wishes,
So little wins.

Longing in leisure,
Lurking in loneliness,
So many losses,
So little loved.

Burning in boredom,
Believing in again,
So many chances,
So little taken.

Giving to grief,
Going with the ghosts,
Gullable to the hopes
that I desire most.

But tender is the touch
of the truth that's been torn,
Healing while revealing,
my deepest aches and sores.