Travelers Permit
On a ride I never bought a ticket for
I pass anger's keep on a vigilant street.
My dreams keep time on a transit treadmill
In a city bricked with compacted hopes behind doors shut.
I am home and I ask myself, "How fare I?"
Withdrawn behind a muses' mask,
I smile- grimace, actually- I notice no one notices.
Perhaps if I screamed, someone might listen-
I scream
and nobody hears..............
Tags: Poetry
