not knowing

pain,  passion, nervousness

the syptoms i suffer

could the days that pass by be any tougher

the minute hand passes by so slow

the hour hand seem as though it will never move again

my nails dig into the palms of my hand

slowly i grow pale

i hide my pain under a vail

my vision grows blurry

as thoughts are burned into my mind

how long must i await this time

my heart beats slow,

and steady as a drum

not knowing is what i have become