The Waiting Room
It was merely a dream,
But as real as it seem;
Waiting in a big room,
In a shroud of gloom.
Everyone had a frown,
Even likewise a clown;
Appeared unable to cope,
Looked if had lost hope.
You could see the doubt,
While they came about;
Faces were cold and pale,
With looking like betrayal.
Not a very pleasant sight,
Enough for giving a fright;
Since lighting was so dim,
Looking so bleak and grim.
Then an angel came to me,
Telling me that I had to flee;
It was a waiting room for hell,
Heaven was where I to dwell.
Richard Newton Sherrer
Copyright ©2006 Richard Newton Sherrer
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The Waiting Room
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