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The Bus MAG
April 26, 2013
The smell of burning gasoline
Chokes me to the core.
The rumbling
Never seems to end.
In the belly of the beast,
Interred in a metal cage.
Separated from the world,
Watching it go by.
Staring through a clear wall.
Transparent, but strong.
Outside is a blur,
But inside stays still.
I quell the feelings of panic,
Reminding myself where I am,
Where I'm going,
When I'll get there.
The hour-long trip,
My spirit yelling to be free,
I get spit out of the monster
To begin the trek home.
© Kate S., Hopkinton, MA
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This article has 2 comments.
PirateCountry DIAMOND said...
on Aug. 22 2013 at 4:41 pm
Nice job! I really liked it! I like long road trips and bus rides, though. If I have my music with me then I am entertained long enough to avoid feeling like I'm "in the belly of the beast". :)
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