Waiting Room

(Originally posted January, 2015 – Owen)

I’m sitting in a waiting room
And choose to write this verse;
The snow is blowing hard outside
The wind keeps getting worse

Winter once was magical
With castles made of snow;
But now the world is blank, and I
Can’t see which way to go

The wait is over, and my child
Is here, so we depart;
We speak of senseless nothings as
We head into the heart

Of this relentless blizzard
Where we’re greeted by a blast:
Just two more people cold and lost
In problems
Way too
Vast

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

11 thoughts on “Waiting Room”

  1. I love the way you say…’two more people’…because, truly, you are not alone. Nobody has that luxury anymore. We are legion and the struggles of daily life just get so very big, so quickly. And they are truly relentless.

    Liked by 1 person

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