Ride
Feet plated firmly on the black plastic flooring.
The aroma of old gas station food fills my senses.
The way out of my head is to my right, the path to be free, the path to leave.
But we move ever so, enough to keep me in, encapsulated in my cell, unable to be free.
I tuck my eyes into the darkness caressing my body,
my legs, everywhere but my face.
To go numb, to free myself, to find unconsciousness once more so that finally, finally the world seen outside these reinforced glass views finally stops. And I am free.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
