Patient

The hours in here are so lonely.

Waiting between waking

for any company

to while away the time.

Outside the window I can see

the life of the city streets.

Cars buzz like bees

day and night.

There is no honey here,

just space being crossed from

place to place.

All this white-

the steady warmth

of machinery,

its hum a melody

I never wish to hear again.