mmmm... memories!
Even Spies Ride the Bus
We’re sneaky.
Through thickets that grabbed at our clothes
And fences that clutched and clawed our skin
We stumbled and pushed
And fought our way to freedom.
We escaped.
Covert, secretive.
Quickly and quietly we got away.
We hiked with our packs
Towards our glorious goal
Away from oppression and boredom.
And after our harrowing escape,
We relied on public transportation
To get us where we wanted to go.
We’re sneaky,
But even spies ride the bus.
| | lemonadiac (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small} lemonadiac) wrote, |
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mmmm poetry...
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