The Waiting Room

The silence of waiting,
The waiting silence,
A bureaucratic science,
The loaded silence.

Silence filled with When.

We wait, wait, wait,
For our turn in the queue.

A hundred blank faces,
Bored for patience.

Crossed legs,
Coats on pegs,
Tapping feet,
Brains half-asleep.

Finally our name is called.

We slowly stand,
Gaze at the waiters,
Listen to their silence,
Snort with haughty mien,
Strut away in triumph.