Pit Stop

I travel nervously. I’m best alone,
and any quiet helps me get along.
I leave with time to spare – I check my phone
too often and I stress I’ve scheduled wrong.
So I appreciate the hidden zone
between two terminals, away from throng,
where there’s a bathroom no one often uses:
a pit stop on my way, without abuses.

(Ottava Rima)

This entry was posted in Personality, Poetry, Transit and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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