Sitting on a plastic chair
in the waiting room
sucking the tip of my pen
it's almost
there
now
People
are coming
and going or coming
I can tell
beneath their clothes
phones are buzzing
and buzzing people
have something to say
As I stay
thinking about
texting you to ask
when you are coming
to this side
of the
ocean
but I don't
because I
have to wait
for a long
time
anyway
Sitting on this
plastic chair
staring at the door
wide open
if only
I could
meet someone
new
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem