The Waiting Room
by Jon McFarland
I sit in this place,
waiting for the time,
when I may see her face.
This room is dark and desolate,
and no one knows this stress,
that lies in my head so delicate.
Yet things continue,
despite the wait,
and I still hold true.
Mine will never go away,
but her's has never come,
and chances are that it'll stay this way.
So I wait for hers to come,
as I sit in this room,
wondering what I'll become,
as I'm swept by her broom,
that she calls time.
BACK
I'm Tired,Lost Speech,No Baggage,Some Words for the things He'll Never Have,Something About You,The Waiting Room,Why Me,new one.