A Grim Wait

Why, goodness why, must I spend my time here?

I should be drafting charts for ships on pure

Water near. I should be sailing on the 

Seven seas looking for adventure and 

Adversity to conquer. Instead, I 

Sit and wait for that time to come with a 

Fragile teacup and saucer in my hands, 

A pasted smile on my face, dress twirling, 

Words delicately spilling from my mouth

To the ears of advantageous gentlemen. 

But no, I'm trapped. Waiting. I grimly wait.