Anticipation Watching The Sun Go Down

Anticipation watching the sun go down And you still haven't bloomed. Anticipation of watching the sunrise And you still haven't bloomed. But I know for sure that it'll happen soon. It's a vocation: planting a seed and watching it grow. In the light of the sun or the shade of the moon Itching to see it one day bloom But inpatients can kill it outright. Steal it from its nutrients and light. Then, the moment you forget, it's forgotten. It's blooming, and then it's spoiling. Leaning, falling over towards the sun in heaven And no matter the stake, it will not save it. And your left questioning was any Of your precious time worth it. But who or what would ever bloom alone? If no one cared and loved it, Or graced it by taking it home.