Here I am, sitting, waiting for something
Waiting for what, you might ask
I don't really know
I've never really known, just something

So I just wait, watching the somethings go by
Sometimes a something will catch my eye and I jump up
I try to flag that something down,
But it always seems to vanish, so I return to my seat to wait

Wait and wait--hearing the clock tick and tock
Watching for something and when I find that something,
It will truly be mine for that was what I was waiting for
Taking what you don't need makes the somethings lose their value
And when somethings lose their value, then what are they good for?

So I wait and take only what I need,
'Cause you never know when that something is really someone after all

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This Poems Story

A poem is a story, flowing from mind to pen to paper. And sitting one day in class, this idea came to me and I went with it. That's how most of my poems begin. As the fourth child of a large family, I find little ways to distinguish myself from my siblings. This was one way--a creative way to be me.