poetry by D.e.e.L

three men sit in a waiting room
watching an afternoon talk show
as an author makes a cocktail

a picture of two blue jays sits above three chairs
and names are called every eight minutes or so
so far no one has come back

ignore the television
and wait
mindlessly wait and listen for your name

a sip of the weekend is growing ever closer
higher or lower than ten?
a new show spits out suspense

the poet sits uncalled
eager to head home
eager to stop waiting

this day is fleeting
running away
as people sit doing nothing but waiting

there is no life in waiting
no accomplishment
no reward

a poem sits suffering
waiting to be finished
the poet uncalled loses inspiration

thoughts of how the world will end

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