it’s her turn to cry
waiting for the rain to stop
for the pocket phone to ring
waiting for the midnight train
taking me to promised land
you’ve been gone so long
I’ve forgotten how to find you
sitting on a depot bench
I watch the trains crawl by
waiting becomes cumbersome
patience a thing of the past
I walk away from the waiting
waving goodbye one last time
may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Brilliant
Thank you so much, Sofia.
sad
agreed ~ thanks for commenting