Hotel Lobby Observations

I'm sitting in a hotel lobby, just me sitting.

I'm observing.

I'm observing the masses at 7:30 in the morning.

I'm observing their ritualistic greetings and overly understood gestures.

Choosing from an arrangement of monochromatic color schemes.

An endless surplus of caucasian men and women in tight business suits.

Their bodies bending and breaking to the curvature of their attire.

I don’t know why but they make me sad.

Not the sadness that I feel towards the state of humanity, but the same sadness felt when a film ends and you realize that you will never ever relive those moments ever again.

A sadness of “what was” instead of “what if.”

I did not see people of color.

I did not see women who looked like me.

Who thought like me.

I saw powerful women none the less, but I did not see me.

My heart has begun to ache.

I want to be them, I yearn to be them.

Not dead-eyed, forged into expensive polyester and cotton suits

But someone who is commanding.

Who could bare board meetings and six-inch heels.

Who could change the world by the turn of her blazer collar.

I yearn for “CEO,” after my given name.

I want to be a leader.

I don’t envy their arrogance or their wiriness.

Nor do I wish to become as cardboard and flimsy as them.

I will fervently work to gain the regards of her life on this earth.

How many people sitting here, how many do not know about the world changer sitting across the room.

How many won't acknowledge that I am something special?

Someone who has the desire to set her own path.

How many who do not and will never know.