I wait for hours at a time
In single file lines
Just waiting for my name to be called
Even though I know deep down
I'm not even on the registery.

I fail all my tests
On which I really tried my best
And my buckets of tears
Won't ever be enough
For the numbered sheet of paper.

I hate that I make life a movie
While somewhere in reality
I'm actually standing all alone
In the dead of winter
In the middle of the night.

I wish his face could go away
And come again another day
One where I know the difference
Between a drizzle
And a dark raging storm.

I hurt for sticks and stones
The blood and limbs and bones
All of which do not belong to me
And are on someone else's property
And no where near my address.