By Tonny Wandella

Should I come to you or nay?
I had a subtle patience but now it is naught.
Can you come to me, or will I be eschewed again?
There is no gentle place in time;
Not in the waiting and it’s open noose.
I am doomed all over again.
To think of you and being stuck in dejection.
A part of me is at war with another part of me.
One is aloof and says ‘let her drift to you.
The other is devoid of selfishness and it beckons me to reach out.
Should I reach out my hand or should you?
What should be done to goad you to a stand?
When these nifty words fail and I lay here chagrined.
Can you come to me, or will I be eschewed again?

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