poetry by j matthew waters

waiting for morning to break

I’m like an undocumented alien
waiting in the gray room
blurred around the edges
keeping warm by candlelight

there is very little to read
but content is everywhere
and though drowsy
I stay wide awake just in
case they call my name

rows away children sleep
snickering and whimpering
unintelligible words in the air
like flashes of joy and fear

june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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