You sit in the dark, smelly waiting room.
You all sit on the cracked-black-leather couches, in the ink black gloom, in the shadowy, dingy, black waiting room.
I wander through the endless, blurry, unfocussed brilliance of the Night's glow.
You wait.
I move.
Still.
Moving[you will too].
3 comments:
Juno!
a sweet, dark poem.
smile hun!
I miss you <3
Yes.
I like this.
It stirs up emotions.
I don't know what, though.
You have yet to write a poem that has failed to impress me.
"...You wait.
I move.
Still.
Moving[you will too] "
I decide to move as well. I heard Juno moved while I was still sitting here. It is dark and smelly and gloomy. I can feel it.
Juno moved and assumed I will move too. But I am not sure if she noticed me here. She moved because it was dark, smelly and gloomy. She moved because she didn't like the darkenss surrounding her. Now I am by my own, need to move as well. I am trying to find out about my surroundings in this darkness. I wish she helped me to move. maybe she forgot. But it not something new for me, every second of my life I live in dakrness and gloomy sight. Smells guide me, even the stink smell of this room.Voices and sounds (like junos steps moving away from me) helps a lot.
After all,
I am blind.
I was born blind.
You may think that was weird, although it just came out of my mind, it has nothing to do with you Juno or anything personal. It is just a strange view of the other half of the glass. Keep smiling :)
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