I sit here waiting
For my parents to pick me up.
Thirty minutes late
Still, I wait.
Maybe I should walk
I think I know the way.
She said she'd be here.
That was thirty minutes ago.
Now that it's three forty.
I still wait patiently
On the wall.
Staying in the shade,
Writing poems
Of little importance.
I hear cars pass by,
I look up hopefully.
Not seeing the one I know.
My last thought for the poem:
At least I'm not alone.
Boys and girls waiting
For parents to pick up.
Quite very late.
Still, we wait
Some of them give up,
Some of them walk
Not having free parents.
They might be at work
They might be busy,
Either way
We wait for our parents.

-3nwlry