I Am Wilting Waiting For Your Arrival

I watch time go by like an old movie tape

Slow; grey; film burnt

I often wonder, if all the sand in the hour glass fell to the bottom

If you would ever make your way back to me

Would you come back?

If you even still remembered my name

Or the broken promises I still wish you'd fufill

But for now, I will sit here, and rust away

Sit on the dusty shelf, much like 80's records, and await your presence