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As the time passes by, I sit and write
An end to the waiting is not in sight.
The clock sits there ticking, I rock in the chair
My sister's in the bathroom, doing her hair.
The windows are scraped, my teeth are brushed,
And my sister is careful not to be rushed.
Finally as I listen I hear a small squeak
After what seemed to be a year and a week.
The creature emerges, and walks across the floor,
Standing before me, looking just like before.
After waiting and trying to rush her along,
She comes out and says, "Been waiting long?"
"Oh, no," I said trying to be polite,
"Come on let's go we'll have to fly."
We jump in the car and race up the hill,
If it weren't 8:30, we'd be at home still.
I wrote this when I was... well, young. Like, grade school.
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This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License.