Thousands of tiny oases floating past
On a endless river of black
“Was that my exit I just passed? ”
All of us heading somewhere
And nowhere at the same time
Blank faces staring ahead
Onward to a future that they dread
Choking on the fumes of those that have gone before
Our ears ringing with the thunderous roar
© JPM 11/6/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem