Waiting Game

Been a long while since I wrote anything here Now back I come with time on my hands, Yet my fingers are so cold I can barely type. Rejection is an ugly word, an ugly feeling too, It saddens me to have been turned down by him, I'm numb through and through, and quite lost. Sense tells me to hold on tight, stay strong, Play the quiet waiting game with patience And hope for loving warmth when he wakes. So, in this cold room I try and piece together my day, Morning sun works its way into the corners of my soul, And that cold wind twists around the window frames.