Waylaid In Time Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sitting in a parlor of despair, seeing no future beyond
blackened eyes.
Waiting on the edge for corridors to cave in upon this
withering soul.
So alone, unconsoled, filled with eternity, awakened
by threats belonging to passers-by.
Waylaid for moments in time, our ancestors fill empty
spaces with thought, creating an existence of
imaginative reality, focusing towards beyond in silent
catastrophic defilement.

(6: 57 p.m. - 7/11/00)