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By Peace Nick Mann


Like a long grey snake, it lies before me.
Promise of new trips, it will always be.
The beckoning, so strong, makes me numb.
So I give in and stick out my thumb.
People pass me with looks so strange.
Itís not my fault I love seeing the range.
Some people yell as they pass me by.
I smirk and wonder to myself, ďWhy?Ē
What could make them so uncaring and cold?
Maybe I just donít fit into their mold.
They should realize that Iím a human being.
Instead of passing by so dull and unfeeling.
Finally after hours pass by, I see a car stop.
I run up to it but he rolls the window to the top.
He stopped because he missed his exit.
He hits the gas and I feel as if I were hit.
I watch him go around the bend.
And now Iím alone once again.
Soon someone else pulls to the curb.
He gives me a ride and we smoke some herb.
Soon we see the last of the dayís light
But I just know Iím gonna have a great night.



Hitchin USA / Poetry ©  P.L.A.H. Enterprises