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Enough
Sometimes
 it’s enough
 to sit alone
 on roach-infested grass
 watching my peers excel
 at a game
 I will never want to play
 
 Sometimes
 I want to take a stand
 but that would never do
 so I sit there, still and docile, biding my time
 while biting my lip, wishing
 
 Sometimes
 when their incessant games are over
 I stand, brushing grass-blades from my legs
 knowing
 while I may have little else fully, I have my thoughts
 and to sustain me, they are enough

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