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by Jess Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1526521
This poem is my best yet....
As I sit here all with no one
Waiting for something that will not come.
Why do I wait, why do I worry?
Why do I care and why do I cry?
What I want to come is not here.
Will it ever or do I have too much fear?
Do I wait because I care?
Do I wait out of fear?

As I sit here with no one,
I await something never to come.
As I sit here in this chair,
I wonder what is out there.
I will go see, will someone help?
My past is behind me yet it still follows,
It blinds me.
Can I make it go away?
Are others making it stay?
Will someone lead me to a sunset or sunrise?
To wake in the morning to sad baby cries.

At night when I sit alone in my bed,
I think of things that might have been said.
As I sleep alone in my bed,
I think of advice my momma gave.
As I drift off trying to sleep,
I think of things that make me weep.
I think of me as a fool,
Yet my friends are so cool.

As I think of things unheard,
I believe I am quite disturbed.
Yes, I may cry, Yes, I may sigh.
Yes, I may think of the people who have died.
Days are shortened, years are long.
People seem to come, love, care, then are gone.
I go to sleep listening to noises,
I wake up with no sound.
There is no one to be found.
I look around,
Where did everyone go?
Did they run away?
Did they make me stay?
These things come into my head,
When I'm lying there on my bed.
When I'm lying there all alone,
Waiting for something that will not come.
© Copyright 2009 Jess (bunndixon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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