I am quiet. I am reserved. I am socially inept. I am broken.
I see her face in dreams of day;
Whenstever I let my mind astray.
And tell myself that it's okay;
To wait for her and waste away . . .
Life is transition. Life is not static. But it seems like I am. Unchanging. Uneffected. But things are new lately. And maybe big things are to come. Then again maybe it's just smoke. Only time will tell . . .
