Not because it once was real
Just cry on command
From a practiced posture
The true north strong and free
Not a place you’d ask to be
Just follow the agenda
From their self-serving needs
The same stone marker again and again
Not enough to go around
Just eat what was in front of you
From the tote bag in your lap
The scavenged remains of the day
Not a chance to be at peace
Just share the space, the place, the bed
From one room to the next
The keys all look the same
Not a name of your own
Just one of the girls
From the middle of the road
The journey takes forever
2 comments:
Something wonderful comes out of a bad trip when you're a writer.
I've had plenty of "bad trips" doggy....but only one horrible vacation! :) Thanks!
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