I sit here waiting,
debating the need for another
reveal nothing test.
At best, I’m there for support,
a cohort in her condition.
The room is filled with other
such “victims” caught in the waiting.
A utility of futility she sits bravely,
Saving her lament for private ears.
I hear her sigh sadly, badly in need
of a loving caress. She’s a mess.
She can’t wait to leave the gloom
of this forsaken waiting room.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 19: Commom Place