Waiting

She stands at the window, outside looking in,
She watches the world, her head in a spin.
The people, the lives, are bustling en masse,
She wants it so bad, but can't break the glass.

She stands at the window, outside looking in,
The glass at her touch, feels cold to the skin.
She catches her reflection, a double-take glance,
Who is this person, who never had the chance?

She stands at the window, outside looking in,
Her decay is shrouded by a face mask grin.
No body knows of her utmost fear,
Concealed, frozen in an eternal tear.

Her demons, with their bony grip are rife,
As is the realisation, she's scared of life.
Tomorrow she'll return again, alas,
One more futile effort to break glass.

She stands at the window, outside looking in,
She watches the world, her head in a spin.
She watches. Watches. And Watches....
But never goes in.