Travelling on Buses

‘A day out’, I thought. Yes!A day in the city.A time to reflect andTo pen a strange ditty.What cost to my soul?Or what route to my goalMust I take before roses look pretty?A reflective collective? These thoughts in my head run around like tall Indians evading the thread of disaster that ‘Lil Boy Blue’ cast… 

‘A day out’, I thought. Yes!
A day in the city.
A time to reflect and
To pen a strange ditty.
What cost to my soul?
Or what route to my goal
Must I take before roses look pretty?

A reflective collective? These thoughts in my head run around like tall Indians evading the thread of disaster that ‘Lil Boy Blue’ cast upon all their sacred outback lands. Then shot everyone.

I hear it, I do. 
The chat in my mind.
One voice is so soothing
The rest are unkind.
I won’t let them lead me down desolate holes. There’s no fucking way that I’m reaching my goals!

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The author

Adam Adamson still is an awesome shag... Well he is. Honest. But whatever, he has always loved to write, even before he could write. Its been a passion of his since he realised that others would read his stuff and get a little emotional. That gripped him really. Was it good or was it crap? Anyhoo! Enjoy reading what i’ve scribbled and who knows… one day it might make sense.

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