The Night Trip Poem by Musa Gift Masombuka

The road too long,
The bus too slow,
The weather too cold,
The night too dark.

The trip like an adventure,
exploring so many occupations.
You know those broom flights
and them those who sneak in sneakers to feed their hunger.
The bus is shaking,
The body is shaking.
For one may threaten,
then the trip is mistaken.

Them clothes torn and sour coloured.
Them eyes out and running searching for trouble.
Them teeth out like one of a tiger when hungry.
Them language so unusual, so heterogeneous.

The night trip,
isn't the night grip,
or a night trap?
Some may say it was a calling.