Miles

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Roads are long and peaceful, without the horns, and road rage anyone could just lay down and rest, but thats not the case today, today the long roads i am traveling are loud and full of anger, and its impossible for me to lay my head down and rest. " How much longer ?" i ask the grungy man driving, " a few more hours" he answers dryly, it doesnt take alot for him to convince me that he hates his job, the old clothes and unshaved face give me full view of his life, but who iam to judge, here iam 17 and a runway. I roll my eyes and look out the dirty window and wonder if i am that easy to read, i look around at all the people who are traveling as iam. I become a little paraniod at this thought, do they know iam runing away?, i quickly turn around and look over to the seat next to me... empty.. i wasnt expecting anything, or anyone to be sitting there, just my old over the shoulder bag that i bought at a reggae feast back in my better days. I search through my once bright colored bag, which bob marleys face was half peeled off from how old it had become.





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