The Bus Ride
I travel down this One Way street,
Hidden deep within her
Steel confinement.
Each bump and bruise in the road below
Echoes the pain felt inside.
While others rest, I stare out
These breathless windows.
The city streets speak with
Anger of one;
A life alone.
I get off at the next stop;
this isn�t my ride home.
I await in the loneliest of colds
For the next willing soul to find me.
I enter (for a price)
And try to comfort myself.
Here I find lost eyes like mine
Finding their way back.
Some see their end
While others see their trip begin.
This route lasts shortly
As I end up farther from where
I yearn to be.
I get off again;
I�m sure another ride will come.
The time passes by
(without offering a ride)
as finally two eyes peer out of the restraining air.
They stop and slowly open her doors to me.
I enter as her warm feeling flows over me.
Resting, I continue down this path
As she takes me where I need to go
The trees wave their barren hands
As eyes open from the familiar land.
I get off here.
I�m home.
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