Hands shake, body shudders for the umpteenth time. 6:39am
Muscles ache on a hard bench.
No warmth, no place to rest my head.
I await in a fetal position, anxious.
Lids laden with lead,nerves shot on caffeine.
Patient,impatient, on guard and
unblinking for 37 hours and counting.
The battle for wakefulness rages on.
Lights blink off and on again.
People teeming in and out.
All shapes and sizes, color and texture
from the roots of their hair, down to the soles of their shoes.
Half sleeves, quarter sleeves and none.
Hair up and undone.
I scratch my sweater, its been three days almost
and I can't stop shaking no matter the passage of time.
I'm hungry, I'm tired, so very tired.
I hope, I pray for my home of the Bay.
I dream of warmer shores, it's bounty and
a pair of arms to hold me.
365 days, 37 hours, 27 minutes and counting.
I await for my passage at the crossroads.
YOU ARE READING
Strands of Time
PoetryA collection of feelings, hurts, experiences and lessons learnt, felt and lived. A road woven in time for 9 years and continuing. Information for Readers: You'll notice in the titles, the poems run from "Class 7 to Class 15", I started writing from...
