Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
January 5th, 2016. Five in the morning. Red eyes caused by being up since four (am) the day prior. He stands in Winnipeg airport staring off at all the people. "None of them are boring," his brain tells itself, "They are all exquisite stories.. sitting upon their own personal shelves, waiting to be opened." Be wary, my friends.  Many of those who would like to read you,  will only leave you with a cracked & creased spine.  His trance, broken, as a hand taps his shoulder. His sister, ready to board her flight. He says, "Travel safe, good night." With that, back to the parking lot.. Back to solitude.  Back to his thoughts of you.
0
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Passing Strangers
January 5th, 2016. Five in the morning. Red eyes caused by being up since four (am) the day prior. He stands in Winnipeg airport staring off at all the people. "None of them are boring," his brain tells itself, "They are all exquisite stories.. sitting upon their own personal shelves, waiting to be opened." Be wary, my friends.  Many of those who would like to read you,  will only leave you with a cracked & creased spine.  His trance, broken, as a hand taps his shoulder. His sister, ready to board her flight. He says, "Travel safe, good night." With that, back to the parking lot.. Back to solitude.  Back to his thoughts of you.
January 5th, 2016
HideousAegidiusOCrowley
Written by
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem