City Bus Rides #kindofalongone:/ Seeing remnants of lost dreams through gaps of missing teeth Hurt childhoods written in graffiti so often its like Christmas’s doors that line up with wreaths Silence sold to noises of sore throats and raspy thoughts developed from black tar ridden waters Some speak of their daughters How child support left them no choice but to be pushing shopping-carters I grit my teeth, trying to use just one of my senses Knowing more than that could cause a potential thirst that never quenches No ride is simple No ride is ample The wheels run on fuel laced with obnoxious cries and elders screaming for their seat The one they earned with grey hair, wrinkled leather skin, and swollen feet Anything to calm the drama that runs their minds all day, bleeding through their complexion Lack of affection Diseased with half measures that promised eternities through a collapsing erection Asking questions that need more than a penny for your thoughts or a dime for your attention Each crippling avenue picks up a new scent of smoke that carries a story of scars Stories of Hollywood stars and overseas given Sars Leaking into the open air to crush your safety net and have you cringing with your bones feeling sore Your comfort zone can’t be reached by exiting through the back door Jaws move as quick as kids running to catch this fare fast The smell of curiosity, ideas, and happiness blends with old whiskey bottles merging into broken glass It's a moving caravan going from A to B as it flows Culminating groups of minds believing the lustful hustle that turns humans to hoes Feeling like the blind is leading the blind I guess it's the mind they chose Designed to stay closed With that sits the industrial wealth Feeding off of the global economy destined only to look after itself I’m sure their homes are furnished and painted with Ikea’s mouth saying, “you’re doing good….but seriously gain more wealth!” This feels like a tainted priesthood that has real saints misunderstood While pressure and opinions seen on the TV set up the veil Cultivating minds to look at future as more like a mythical tale There is insanity rising from the floor Arousing questions like: What are we working for? What are these two dollars for? And don’t treat me like a whore Lying with a half sad, half ginning smudge across your face, with your false motives spraying out of your pours like mace “It’s going to the bus drivers. Don’t worry.” Like we’re feeding the poor You can find a third world country out the window as we pass each liquor store Empty traditions Striving to reach their goal of a certain social position Teaching ambition to support the families superstition? Your counterfeit wisdom is spoke through stutters, miswell be creating sentences with curse words Every exhale out turns from smoke to white Internally showcasing your bodies are absent of light Under the curse To feel not so happy but just a bit worse Faxing, not calling, so personal interaction doesn’t come first Snatching your heart and soul right out of your purse It's time for rebirth I get off at my stop emotionally drained from the mix of dirty fingernails and suits I use my breath as my one scent, giving the chance for the others to re-boot I think about how it’s our time and generation to start watering our roots Take nothing for granted, take everything around us serious, especially the idea of truth So these buses filled with empty, dying flowers blooming with never-fulfilled pursuits Can become trees bearing compassion and kindness filled fruits Each one juicy and ripe with aspirations, goals, and freedom with no expectations Ones that cannot even be cut with a knife Only bus rides with a variety of peace, empathy, care, togetherness, health, love, humility, but most importantly, #life