Waiting for the moment to come <br />when I can stretch out my arms; <br />I watch the world pass by <br />with high-earned ambitions. <br />My heart longs to be <br />something bigger. <br />Something that'll break the bounds <br />and restructure the norm. <br />Yet, each minute strolls by <br />untouched, unnoticed, unappreciated. <br />The seconds beckon for fulfillment <br />while my stubbornness shys back with reluctance. <br />I continue to sit, wasting away valuable time <br />and making a contribution that matches <br />oil to water. <br />When will my idealistic second appear? <br />When will my heart flare with excitement? <br />When will my mind shake, forcing it to awake <br />and face my passing mistakes; bringing a realization <br />that it was myself who flaked <br />the surmounting opportunities <br />of which, I did not partake...and all that's left <br />is the compromised last piece of cake. <br />Yet, I will not fall once again <br />but will dismiss the dismay in a discontinuation; <br />resounding the rejected reflections <br />with a thin hope built of no metabolism. <br />This moment will arrive <br />when I step out and choose, <br />thus adjusting my heart <br />to a rhythm that voids the blues.<br /><br />Trevor Schulte<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-idealistic-moment/
