Postcard~ Anonymous

Ten minutes before closing time,
I sit in this chair, at this square table, 
in a four-story building,
engulfed by millions of words
but no one is speaking.
I look out the window at the dark scattered clouds,
the busy sidewalks, and rushing people
wishing I were anywhere else
other than sitting encapsulated by the silence around me.
I think of you and where your feet wonder now
wishing to hear your voice calling my name from down the street and
seeing those beat up maroon converse walking my direction.
I'm always wondering 
if this is the place 
I want to be
or
if this place is even right for me.
I sit here looking around at the quiet empty desk chairs.
If people knew about you
would they want to leave you too?
 

Author Bio:
I am an average college student with real struggles that I don't really share.