Time of Departure
It’s a masquerade
A chaotic, hopeless mass
Imprisoned by choice
Waiting on a plane
Some are there on business
Others vacations
Some to bury the dead
But everyone is important
And everyone is someone
First class, business class, no class
We are all self-important
And thus meaningful
We need this validation
Otherwise we are just people
Like everyone else
But all of us have the same destination
We are just taking different flights
In the end we all end up with nothing
But an estimated time of departure.
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