Suspended…

In a state of constant suspension,
Like an elastic band in pull,
Waiting for a change of status
From the stretch that is – oh – so dull…

I’m tired of this state of suspension
Where I am floating in mid-air…
I can see the ground beneath me
And can feel the chill in the air…

I act, and am overwhelmed by nothing…
I wait, and then I wait some more
For some kind of something to happen
To this unceasing suspended bore…

I pray for change and action,
Sometimes even in extremes,
Something… Anything… ANYTHING!
If even excruciating screams!

In a state of constant suspension
That is eating me up inside,
It consumes my soul and body…
Does this mean that I have died?

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