I stood,

waiting for an age.

The warming rain poured down on me.

I waited for the sun to shine.

The moment didn’t come.


I sat,

my spirit feeling dead.

I was in a circle which I’d drawn around me

in the hope of finding strength.

No strength came.


I watched,

alone and scared;

the changing landscape passed me by.

I was stuck with my problems.

No solution came to light.


I sigh,

my tears barely noticeable to me.

I gaze out of the window

of the tower he’ll rescue me from.

The exit is the entrance

but the prince has not come in.


I lie,

in mind-numbing pain

at the foot of the stairs

for someone to find me: someone to comfort me.

No one has come for me.


You’re hanging,

from a string my words tied around you

- else why should you read?

You want a satisfactory ending...

Don’t hang around.

It might not come.

The End

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