the wait

Juan Miguel Torres

it’s a one way waiting station
and it doesn’t make them forget
they are mirrors to each other
patiently living for their deaths

they must sometime ask somebody
why is there such a lonely place
that will destine us so coldly
and forget we have a face

it’s a jail of a much worse kind
that gives us an empty freedom
knowing we must accept our stay
where we can’t even reach and feel
for a crying child’s embrace
where we never see a baby
sucking at his mother’s breast

we hope
once we’ve met our fate
that we do not cry in vain
it was all a futile wait