These Steps

I used to sit on these steps and smoke. Staring off into the distance and thinking about everything and nothing at all. Worrying about things that would never come to pass. Waiting on something that was supposed to happen. I feel foolish when I think of that boy. How much time he squandered. How many fingers he pointed. How many excuses he made. I am not sure when I decided to stop sitting on those steps. But I am glad I did.