DIALTONE

Often times, when I'm alone,
I listen to the dialtone,
Perhaps awaiting a reply,
A voice that tells me I'm alive.

Though my life is plagued by silence,
It is not marked by mere compliance,
In coming years I'll learn to see,
The person that I want to be.

But for now my days are slow,
That is how the routine goes,
Someday I'll grow up and run away,
And wish for more lonely, rainy days.