As I wait in my room for this event to end,
I might as well make use of the time and make myself useful.
There is company here, if and when I pretend,
And I know there's much worse, but you know who disagrees?
My pen.
Is there something wrong with my brain because I really don't know why
I think this way
And then I realize potential fixes are all merely numbers away.
Oh how I wish I could say anything at all today.
While others rejoice in rowdy jubilance,
My attention span prevents me from even taking a glance.
I just don't think I will ever understand why this is so enjoyable
I guess that is another reason that I am a hermit