As I sit here and wai,
I consider my fate.
With false accusations and stress,
I've gotten myself into a mess.
As my newfound guilt lingers,
I can think of nothing
But pointed fingers.
From my sorrow,
Remorse, and grief,
I fear there is no relief.
Heart pounding, I try
And think of a plan.
I long to escape my troubles
At hand.
Yet I know what I must do,
Sit here alone
And think things through.

---

BACK
Home 3