Sitting alone in the room,
My head on my hands,
Staring out at the cars in the parking lot,
The pavement fades.

I see the dirt covered paths,
Weeds straining to hold themselves up here and there,
The shadows of birds flying over head,
Rustling coming from my right,
I glance over,
seeing an old broken down room,
White paint now peeling and browning with age,
It is beatiful,
The once clear windows,
blackened and broken.

I hear the soft Sounds Of footsteps,
A hand touches my shoulder,
"Olivia Come on"
Pulled back to life,
I stare at my mother,
Nodding helping her wheel my grandmother back to the car.
"What where you doing before?" she asked,
"Daydreaming Of a world I wish I lived in."
It was only a quiet whisper,
She did not hear it.
I could only sigh,
once again I was pulled away from that world.

I have come to love that world,
The one in my mind,
That Very few know of,
Daydreams