Boarding a flight

The cosmos of terminals,

An organized chaos,

created by those,

who know somethings about people,

And their behavior,

With more people on board,

And the birds in the air.

A cosmos of terminals,

a park of venues: eatery, grocery and the duty free,

and the disappearing shoe shiner,

Where airlines and their lounges show their

hospitality only with an access.

Our cosmos of terminals,

sees the seasonal change of passengers,

the discounted vegetation on the ground,

those sites seeing for cheaper price;

And some set the gallery for their ride,

with their golden purse,

And are nursed around with champaign and wine,

Other stay by the manure of McDonald’s,

And stale sandwiches sold on labels fresh.

This cosmos of terminals,

Where queues are longer,

If you are nobody,

And standing buffalos: old and poor;

And shorter,

You are first: if rich and dandy

Oh! My experience,

An alert sound,

a fire alarm,

Be-safe and safe travels,

to all those who travel taking the cosmos ride.