London Poem: Day 70

26 October

I retire to my room,
And wait for the world to come to me.
My arms hang limp,
Spinning with the world,
Yet hardly spinning at all.
What shall come to those who wait?
The quiet world rumbles on in
Fury and Despair,
Hurling on and into the dark.
We are one in the same, my dear;
Waiting forever for the world
To come to us.
We’ll wait a while a longer,
Because in the end, we are waiting together.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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