A theory about fating.
While others are baiting.
I keep waiting, waiting.
Others seem to have found the Gating.
But to my surprise they are not celebrating.
That empty feeling of not rating.
I think I’ve found it but it’s abating.
Time can be terminating.
Its, frustrating, grating.
While I try conflating and mating.
The world keeps dictating.
But there words need translating.
This constant debating.
I need to get on with consummating.
I will try arbitrating.
This waiting, waiting.