Waiting

Waiting for the sun to rise.
Waiting for another day.
To repeat the process once again.
That process, those steps being that lovely thing
called life.

Why does the sun always rise?

Why do I go on and wake for the next.

That excruciating day.

Those piercing eyes, and painful glances.

It hurts the most, those rejecting stares from family, friends, and foes.

Why do I go on.

Why do I wait.