Queueing

Poem Twenty One

What is just in grasp seems so far away,
what can’t be seen seems so near yet
I cannot reach it.

The never-ending torment of frustration is eased
by each shuffling step,

Each worn out sign is rewarded by
a nearing, a getting closer, an almost there
Until…

‘This counter is now closed, Thankyou’

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.