taxiing down the runway, flights filled with dream and hope

friday travel, headed home, a week in quiet seclusion

so many smiles, except the fool, headed home to his empty apartment

he watches them holding hands down the corridor, my hand reaches to the quiet void by my side

end of the road, end of the line, a silent wistful longing

so much time spent alone, traveling from state to state, of boredom to depression, of longing to suffering in silence

families pass, parents with stern faces, kids excited for adventure

was i ever like that

that battered prince of melancholy, beaten for too sharply woven words, fetching beers and going nowhere at the speed of light

now trapped in an airport

going nowhere at the speed of sorrow

watching happy people pass him by

a normal state