Morning comes but the night has been long
Waiting for something I know I must be strong.
Minutes pass then come's the hour's
Sometimes thinking I hear footstep's on the stair's.
The mind play's cruel trick's
I hear the clock as it tick's.
Thinking back to a place in time
Where there's no heartache memory or rhyme.
Waiting for something that I must find.
Dream's of the past fly through my mind..
Now morning becomes night and it start's over again
Waiting and watching ,my mind knows not when....
Written by Artie Beason 12-31-2009