I hate going to airports,
to lose myself among so many,
I detest the crowds of flesh,
bags and baggage,
queing up stqnding in line
waiting to serve and be served,
though caught in a meelee
pulling and pushing within reason
protocol is observed
in line, yet lost in a crowd
dwarfed and alone,
my ear tuned to garble of language,
on hearing my mother tongue,
the empathy of belonging,
security of many among many,
alleviates the stifling, somewhat,
I compromise my misanthropic nature
becoming national,
banding together in hostility,
who says,
such feeings
are normal
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