I’m not much for conversation.
The smalltalk in our lives.
I’m waiting for something special;
whenever it arrives.

Standing straight and watching
Spoken words go flying by.
Concentration blurs, and eyes drift off,
My ears have said goodbye

Waiting on my own two feet,
With patience gazing far.
I close my eyes, and breathing deep
I fly out to the stars.

Wishful thinking of our youth;
It’s so easy to forget.
Waiting on the stairs of life
Remorse and fear, regret.

Is there reason in the world?
Is there a joker in my hand?
Is there a reason to even try?
Should I even make a stand?

We punctuate our lives with work.
Does quality even matter?
From all I’ve seen it surely doesn’t,
At least that’s what I gather.

If no one cares or wants to try,
Then I’ll just pack and walk.
I’ll find a place inside this world,
Where I’m not afraid to talk.