I write poems as a hobby.
Ceiling so high
Walls so wide apart
Treading along this path
with a gasping heart
...
Something is approaching.
Clink! Clank! Clunk!
I attempt to stand where the doors open.
A rush of warm air overcomes me as I look for a seat.
...
Rough grass poking on my legs...
Prickly on my arms, too.
The sun slowly starts baking.
Swoosh!
...