The waiting was the hardest part. Was waiting for my fun to start--
the fun on this new path I’d found; my writing career that I’d unwound
from years of suppressing my own thought! Now bored and drifting, I’ve been caught
up in writing lots of text. My English teachers would be vexed
to see me using all my worth to write the lamest stuff on Earth!
So, futile striving was my lot; to work for whatever I'd fought.
I’m working, still, and thus I find that word-abuse is so unkind!