Hateful Ride

Hate radiates from the old man like a potbelly stove... And he silently drives down the road... I'm lost in my own tortures as we ride back to where I sleep... I regretfully still love you... There are no secrets I can keep... Your hateful ghost still drifts through my mind... I am finally free, yet smothered and confined... The old man glares and almost vomits disdain... Only a matter of time until I'm thrown out in the rain... The bus ride is peaceful, yet I dread the ride from there... One of us is going in the ground soon. Which one? I really don't care...