I’m waiting though impatiently
but don’t know what I’m waiting for.
A high state of expectancy.
I’ve often felt like this before.
I think I am a sensitive
who’s blessed or cursed with second sight.
I hope for something positive.
But I foresee a tragedy.
Something that is yet to be.
Though I may know I cannot say
who would believe me anyway?
I sometimes wish that I was blind
to pictures forming in my mind
but now I have become resigned.
To waiting for the axe to fall
confirming fears which torture me.
Alas I have no choice at all
I cannot choose what I foresee.