Counting down the hours
Until I leave this place.
It's bleak walls and oppressive thoughts,
Infringe upon my beliefs.
The departure rooms almost empty.
Only a vending machine stands still,
Surrounded by an ocean of blue chairs,
While my minds scattered across the floor.
It's almost time to go.
Stray images invade my mind,
Causing me to rethink the trip,
Even though I've already bought my ticket.
Leaving wont be easy
But staying is even harder,
So i'm counting down the minutes
Until i leave this place behind me.
Author notes
Ook then.. The people who know me will all interpret this differently. If you really want to know, just ask.
by the way- thats a rough draft, so any suggestions are appreciated.
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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You know I love your work, and this is no exception. I know it's about going back to Melbourne, but I love how this could be interpreted differently. I don't think you should change anything about this poem.
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Killing yourself.
Graduating from school.
Coming back to Melb.
I logged in just for you lol. Gosh, how much I've done for you tonight 
I actually really love this, it's simple but in a sophisticated way and can clearly have many different interpretations. I love it hunni, and you of course.
FRIGGING MOTHS!
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Aww, I feel so special, the song and logging into AP for me, how terrible am I as a friend? Gee.
*goes and chases away the moths* -
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Lol it's ok. I got a copy of the song for myself too lol. And I'll love ya anyways even if you did it all the time to me... especially if you get rid of moths for me
I freaked out at a butterfly today
Love ya -
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awww your love for my moth exorcisms. Gee, how special am I?
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i think this is reather good
well done
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