Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Tour Of Duty

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:

fuquinay said...

Something wonderful comes out of a bad trip when you're a writer.

Jane said...

I've had plenty of "bad trips" doggy....but only one horrible vacation! :) Thanks!