Going Home For Christmas
The train makes its way
Over the trestle bridge.
Fast as a missile.
its whistle blows loud and long.
People wrestle with luggage.
I say to myself..hurry, hurry!
Can't be late.
through the gate others and I go.
Nothing can compare.
To going home...
For CHRISTMAS.
Copyright 2011 JohnnyPaul Davis
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