Airports are a funny place aren't they? (a poem)

Tuesday, March 09

By Arya

We each have our own, perhaps yours is home

To the daydreams you forget, until they can fly.

Where desires withstand reason alone

And simply board the path less travelled by.

Our collective in-between, where time stands

Still, stuck inside reading people’s faces...

Excited to see where his hello lands

While her goodbye: woefully unlaces.

My own airport is neither here nor there.

A perpetual state of frustration

Waiting for a plane that’s happier elsewhere;

Lacking the sense to change my destination.

I'm too far gone. So, naively, I stay

Hoping tomorrow brings more than today.


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