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Waiting
I am fifteen,
 and all I can do is watch.
 Watch as every car zooms by
 my hands gripping the bench,
 my head throbbing as if hit with a mallet.
 Where are you?
 
 Waiting.
 The smell of smoke pokes at my senses.
 Why does this man smoke?
 Can't a person die of that?
 Can I die?
 I stand and begin to pace around.
 Where are you?
 
 My heart pounding against my ribs,
 a heart attack?
 Car pulling up, my breathing paused.
 Window rolled down, a face appears
 and oh, so familiar.
 Entering the shady vehicle I speak,
 "Where were you?"

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