Waiting

Here I’ve come to this
waiting room of the world

Chairs of leather and metal
Not designed for comfort.

Old magazines, television running talk shows, musack

They say there is healing inside…
When my name is called.
Why hasn’t my name been called?

The sliding glass…hope?
Someone else’s name.

Maybe I’m supposed to heal myself?
Take two aspirin and do the right thing.
I’ve done that before.

This time I will wait till my name is called.

Maybe I don’t have the right insurance.
Could it be that everyone knows I’m…
Terminal?

I’ve loved well.
I’ve even fallen in love.
Prayed that love would rescue me.

I wait for love.
That would heal me.

Right?

Why is it so cold in here?
Coughing and moaning
So many sick around me.

“I’m really tired, nurse”
“Me too…were all tired here”
This waiting room of the world.

Tell the Doctor I’ll be here…
…waiting for him.
Just like it’s always been.