She sits on her bed,
waiting for her friends to show,
but they never really do,
and she won't get up and go.
Somehow she can't give up on them,
not like they seemed to give up on her,
She couldn't just forget like that,
she won't be a quitter.
Isn't that what she'd be?
Giving up on her friends?
Giving up on her hopes of them?
Is it not better to wait till the end?
In her hearts, she knows their not coming back,
She doesn't need them to tell her this,
She knows it, even if she doesn't think so,
it's written in their words, on their very lips.
They never called her their friend,
she was useful and in need,
something to take away the boredom,
A way to nuture their insecurity.
And as she comes to realize all of this,
She looks out her window from her seat,
Looking for some trace of them,
But she will not rise, but waits forever at her seat.