Ten hours of boredom,
Coffee, solid attempts at staying awake,
Dread the dreary sound of his voice
Reverberating off the walls,
Something soothing
About the noise and repetitious inflection,
Like the roar of an engine, grumbling in my ear,
cold table, cozy seat. Ache to be comfortable
but know that is the last thing I need.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem