Sunday, July 6, 2014

The Stowaway and I

Call me Mr. Unlucky.
 I'm on my way.
To the place I know.
I call home.
Covered in snow
As though it may seem.
Nothing but delays
And a stowaway.
That follows me
and sits beside me.
Stiring a Strom
Of Rage 
With a cup of frustration
I come to the train station
I fondel my bags 
My head sags 
A missing wallet 
I have been robbed 
Every penny. 
I tried renting a car 
Hoping it would get me far.
My stoe away and I 
Blast the radio 
And sing 
But the car begins to ding
Over heating engine
Trying to avoid being singed
With a bang the car flames
I hate life's games!
I shout about 
Cursing at the sky 
Wondering why
This keeps happening
Though there is some good to this story 
The stowaway keeps me company
On my endless journey back home
We have no money
No hope 
No reason to try 
But a family 
Will soon be mine
No matter how long 
This journey maybe 
We've got each other just you and me.


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