Waiting

I am waiting
for everything-
and anything
to happen.
For the dull and placid colors
to come alive with
Beauty
again.
For the poets to imagine them
and
the painters
to paint them.
I am waiting
for the ecstasy that
is supposed to hit
at age sixteen-
I am a year overdue.
I am waiting
for there to be silence
instead of noisy, drunken laughter
at all of the parties,
while pictures from cameras by Kodak
are snap, snap snapping!
Everywhere.
I am waiting
for the whispers
from the people
you thought you once
knew
to end.
I am waiting
for the girls to
stop
going to the bathroom at 135 pounds
and coming out looking
105.
I am waiting
for the boys
to pull up their
flies
and start acting like the princes
I saw in my coloring books.
I am waiting
for the parents that
listen
and
comfort
and don't hide behind
plastic masks
smeared with makeup and cigars.
I am waiting
for that "gift"
God was supposed to give me-
the gifts of nobility or pride,
of purity and goodness.
Maybe you only have those
at age
one.
And I am waiting
for the day
when smiles will not be
torn
off faces and
buildings with proud flags will not
crumble at bare feet.