Poem: waiting

I am starting to write my dream.

I am no longer waiting on them to be served.

The light that heats the table now keeps it cold.

The dark is holding my strings tight.

I just cannot find the words to write.

That will change within the day.

I go back to reality and that is not saying my name.

When will this happen, the time is clicking.

I just want to tell the stories that my dream has always heard.