Sitting here writing in another doctor's
waiting room, hoping to get in soon so I
can be done and go home.
So many reasons for me to be here, yet,
I wish I didn't have to be any longer.
Always having to return, go through tests
and hope the news will change to something
good or at least a little better.
Knowing that it never will, I bide my time
by writing poetry which helps me while
away this time that otherwise would be
wasted moments in my life.
(1: 32 p.m. - 1/7/14)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem