Outside the hotel room window
the children are screaming
whilst the shell of my father
waits in a box
to be burnt.

Why am I here?
I am nothing like these people,
they have nothing to offer me
apart from more news
of their mistakes.

Teary eyed stories
of entrapment
that make me wonder
how.

How can I be like this
with all that sludge
in me too?