Waiting

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I’m waiting again but this time it’s good.
This time it’s fine.
This time it’s like I planned it all along.
Waiting around gives me some time to think.
To think about what I might like to drink but other things too, other than you.
Other than you and what you put me through.
I don’t mean to imply anything was your fault because all you did was to be who you are.
What else could I expect but that?
And what else could I do when I had to react?

I’m waiting again but I’m waiting for friends
And waiting again for the waiting to end.
After and drink and some more time to think I’m sure I’ll be easier, happier, stronger.
Stronger if I don’t have to wait too much longer.

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