Running to the car, waiting on the motorway
Rushing to the check-in, meeting another delay
Finally bags are checked in, there’s some engine fault
More hours wait ahead now I’m grinding to a halt
Nothing is improving, hours dripping past
Eagar to get moving, nothing happens fast
Hour after hour, just waiting around
Seems a far off dream to be outward bound
But it adds excitement, anticipation is increased
It’s true the longer the hunger the tastier the feast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem