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.