Standing In Line Poem by Brittany Marsh

Dry, dead leaves
dance past my feet
with happiness I lack.
Jealousy flows through my veins.
I wish to dance,
to sing,
to run free, but no.
That isn't me.
Winters coming quickly,
I feel the chill in my bones
and the loss still resides in the pit of my soul.
This poor old rusting heart of mine
is unaware it's losing time with every chime.
I wish,
I want
to make him mine.
Right after depression
I stand in line.