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Three a.m. rambles on a bus ride home from New York City
May 5, 2014
4:45 pm
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Points: 1640
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It's 3 a.m. and I'm somewhere in Pennsylvania, probably,
dozing off every few minutes and cramped into a small bus seat
that is very uncomfortable.
Trees pass me by, few lights of homes appearing and passing,
or the blinking of telephone towers off in the distance.
We pass by small cities, the street lamps illuminating the silhouettes
of hotels and restaurants right off the highway.
The world beyond the bus is black, endless black.
The skies are clouded, not a star in sight, and I am
three days more into missing you.
The time blurs as minutes tick by, and I know if I fall
asleep on this cursed vehicle I will get sick,
so I continue to write to you,
to try to convey what the deepness of the night
does to my thoughts.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I

I hope you miss me, too.

Someday, I like to think. . .
May 9, 2014
8:52 pm
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Points: 12031
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Awww, this is a touching piece. Great imagery!

Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
May 10, 2014
7:08 am
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Points: 7921
Thanked 179 times
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Bravo Ritski.............. A sullen picture painted of a heavy heart................ "trying to convey what the deepness of the night does to my thoughts." Gave me the feeling that your mood would have been different had you been anywhere else at the time........... Created distance and separation. Very nice.

Semper Fi

Those individuals who deem themselves perfect barely scratch an elbow in their fall from grace. Wm Steele

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