When Jack got on, the dirty night bus.
They said, go back home.
He spent his time, to the last cent
Tossed back, just to roam.
While lights past by, the road had bumps
His bones, now felt older.
He heard the dark and found its calm
Though free, it was colder.
When jack had signed dotted black line
Sam kept, back his soul.
But now that jack, goes back on home
Knows not, what is whole.
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Comments3
Clever word play in a poem that matches incongruities with rhyme. Very nicely written
That's a nicely crafted write, enjoyed the read
Well said
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