Greyhound is the grounds of reflection,All these lost souls and broken hearts on the bus I'm catching.Each and everyone weighed down by their luggage and baggage,Escaping wherever they came with their kids in hand. But I'm on the same route though.... Been an unaccompanied minor on airlines because of divorce,I've been across the United States more than I actually know,Greyhounds to the South for over 24 hours,Flying coach to the west coast leaving terminals getting lost. But I don't fly anymore though... Voyages through the valleys and the Mid-Atlantic,Dipped out at 6 after work, sliding through the crib at 2 AM.All these thoughts I didn't have time to pay mind to,Can't blame my mind for wandering just like I do. Keep the duffel on hand because I'm always fuckin packing... I'm feeling a little broken and lost so I'm on my way,On my way to my roots where my mother is the anchor,I'm on my way because I'm feeling a little lost at sea,I'm on my way via Greyhound back to me.

This poem is about: 
My community


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