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Just Another Passing Day
written: August 22, 1989, inside the classroom
When Aridity Lingers on
The day is shady and dreary, no one comes to me. The class is dry and noisy, no professor you to see. I cry, and I pray, no tears to feel, nor voice to hear. Only hubbub that knows not a fancy's end is near. The sweet aroma hastens to enter into the room. Silence then rules, as professor comes in gloom. Fancy talking is again spoken, the end is nearing. I could see their backs to the portal disappearing. The day is shady and dreary, no one comes to me. The class is dry and noisy, no professor you to see. I cry, and I pray, no tears to feel, nor voice to hear. Only hubbub that knows not a fancy's end is near.One morning of August 22, 1989 in a college classroom, between 9:00 and 9:30 a.m., I felt terribly down. I found myself sitting in a chair, feeling lonely, with no one to talk to, just by myself, waiting for the next class.
In those days, as each day dragged on, I counted the minutes, wishing the hours to go away, and wanting time to pass by me so quickly.
That very day was just one of those days, thoughts like 'I don't belong here, but seems no way out'. In such a quiet desperation, I wrote this poem down.