Bus-Boy
To sit and stare at fast moving clouds,
And pray to stand on one's own two feet-
The bus is my monastery, and I sit
And cling to my belongings like beads,
Bowing in still half-sleep laden stupor,
A prayer of need is denial's seed,
And I plant my Gods yearly,
Hoping that hope can drag me,
Out of this routine of wheels,
And road, so I can stand up
Tall, as Lucifer after the Fall
Copyright © Ph.D Volo Von Wolfenstein | Year Posted 2011
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