A Girl at the Gate

Waiting for the gate to open,
Bags next to me ready to board,
I open one to extract a poet,
To understand her imaginative literature,
And next I see a young girl and her mom,
Very active! Maybe very excited to travel,
Maybe someone awaits her at the other side,
Or it could even be an adventure,
She started drumming the chair, ever-so-slightly,
Then wiggling her legs,
Now moving herself in her seat back and fro,
I observe all of that as I continue reading,
Maybe too much sweets or chocolates?
I try to ignore her, not that she is disturbing me,
But I thought she might be interesting
Enough to write a poem, I guess,
And here I am scribbling these words,
To show you the innocence of a young kid,
Who still lives in her own little world,
And as she takes a peek at the poems I am reading,
I remembered myself doing the same,
Curious as to the contents of the reader,
So, even in her colourful world
She glances over into reality,
Soon after there was an announcement,
First and business classes may enter,
And they go to the gate,
Now, I wake up from my little fantasy,
Wishing I was at their seats,
But, let us go back to reality,
Are we still in love with this classing system?
Reminds me of Titanic,
To be honest I wish all classes were only first,
Such that humanity comes first,
And so we start thinking about our needs,
And them, too:
The lost and found, but forgotten too.

Friday, 18th of January 2013