Waiting

Waiting, still in a chair
waiting, looking through the window watching clouds dance in the air
For only the ticking of the clock can be heard
As nothing else can seem to be stirred.
Waiting for that door to open, for the people in the white coats to appear.
for some think they are needed, sometimes they are feared.

The people in the room are either small or tall
some are here for their own troubles, some none at all.
For waiting can be a game, sometimes a chore
but if you have something to ponder, it cannot be a bore.
After waiting some time, they call my name
for waiting, can be both a horror or a game.