The marks of my knuckles adorn every single door,
My fingerprints – still fresh on all your windows.
I tap my feet to the beat of what you sing,
Heaven knows that I’ve done my share of waiting.
My engine sits idling beneath the ‘give way’ sign,
Cars drive past thanking me for being so kind.
I’m running on fumes and I’m fuming when I am running,
How many laps to do to prove that I’ve done my share of waiting?
I’ve shattered glass ceilings and walked on broken glass,
My footprints are camouflaged by the red tape you call – class.
There’s nothing stopping this train – my time is coming,
There’s no more chains to pull – I’ve done my share of waiting.
I sit in your chair and slip on your shoes,
I open every door and loosen every noose.
Now I sit with your empty words and start to give them meaning,
Songs of success fill the room and drown out the taps of waiting.