Los Angeles Poem by Meghan

the air smells like apple sauce and dirt
there is only one star and a million lights
there is a daily grey brown haze that glows orange at night
buildings disappear and reappear from the depths of the pollution
the surrounding faces look like poison
standing here in this volatile atmosphere,
I wonder what we look like from above or if we can even be seen?
I want to drive out to where I can see the stars
but the distance is too far for one tank of gas
driving down the oncoming lane of traffic while going too fast
you have to ask yourself, does this feel like the right path?
maybe, but...the air still smells like dirt,
the people are still ugly and as the smog grows thicker,
I'm beginning to think the stars never even existed...