Can't recall whom I wrote this for.

 Waiting

I’m waiting, for the sun to shine;

and waiting, for the pens to line.

Yet I keep waiting, for the birds to fly away

and I wait, before dreams start to sway

Then I wait; untill winter ends

and again waiting when summer begins.

Waiting is what kept me so forgotten,

since the day you had my heart gotten

Because waiting is all of what I can do. 

For you to come, or I won’t come to you.