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Waiting Hours
O, how slow it is,
the afternoon sets the sun.
I await the show of the sky.
sitting in my chair,
one hand on my chin,
the other on my lap,
As I feel my heart throb
in sudden disillusion
The cold evening wind would greet me,
but i did not shiver.
For as early as the air blows,
the slowly the sun sets
and I like it like that
I would usually sit, waiting,
one hand on my chin
the other on my lap, and still waiting...
for someone's hand on my shoulders
and a smile in my heart.