Waiting Room

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


 

(“Waiting Room” – 1-26-2015)

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11 Thoughts to “Waiting Room

  1. From wherever this came, you certainly hit the heart of the matter. And I feel your pain. You have written my story.

  2. Is this from your life experience – or is it a poetic persona adopted?
    In any case a worthy existential snapshot… and good poem.

  3. 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.

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