POEM: Mournings
My yawning makes other laugh.
And i watch their faces
And cover
my mouth,
and yawn behind
My small shy fingers
While their smiles
And my tiredness
Lingers.
I would prefer to stretch.
To twist and turn
and hope
The tiredness would retire,
As train stops, jumps
And starts
While i slowly expire
Into some still state
My hand sits across my face
I close my eyelids
To dream of another place.