

The BusThe biker smiles and turns around, this is his stop coming up. His shirt reads, "Keep Jesus #1 in your heart!" I hug my bag close to my stomach, the pain reaching out to choke me. A young man beside me rubs a leatherbound Bible, and preaches the word of the Lord. I wonder if someone is sending a sign, as I squeeze my eyes shut and wait. "You'll be healthy and happy if you trust in him," he says to the woman across him. The bus screeches to a halt, and everyone sways together, like we're prisoners aboard a ship. No one is happy. There is not one smile. &nThe Bus


The Waiting GameI tug the pink cotton sheet over my eyes, Unwilling to welcome the sun. Once a comrade of happier days, I now loathe like a sleazy con artist. Robbed of my energy. Deprived of all company. Stripped of my faith. I lie here unable to embrace my old friend.The Waiting Game
Sleep never joined me the evening before, The pain in my abdomen kept guard at the door. How I long to melt into his loving reception, I cannot find solace while he is missing in action.
My body wages war against itself. The TNF calls anitbodies to arms, And unleashes Hell on my vulnerable guts.
--
Steve Augle
Awesome poetry, by the way, The Bus is the best!
--
you are just so hard to please and you always change your mind...
go sort out your head and heart before you mess with mine.
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