I rang the bell…
Impatient and dour
From the stride
In the drunken alleys
Deluged by the moon
Searching for a place,
A stale room
Inept and incomparable
To the grandest places
Stashed in the foliage
Of sunken pockets
Of gnarled hallways

A place
Where I am found
Welcomed
Nursed
Injected with fire
Bloated and ballooned
To take flight
Because, after all
The fray will end
And there will not be
Another vacancy…

I rang the bell
And ran away,
Astray,
Breathing death
Back to solitude
Back to the alleys
Less the places
Where I found myself.

Norman Santos

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hostel/