Vacation: The Beach Hours thinking on what to pack Imagining the feel of sand and air Dreaming about clear blue water And the salty wind blowing through my hair. Hours crammed in the car Headphones, books, and magazines Litter the floor with empty drinks It ain't nothin compared to a limousine... The drive is endless The naps are cramped Tight seating hurts There's not enough room, not even for a small lamp! But when we arrive And check in to our rooms Then it's off to the beach! We run like we have something to prove Nothing else like it Nothing sweet like a peach Although there is one thing Vacation a.k.a: The Beach
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Shelby
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