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Tori Hayes Nov 2015
We are vehicles
Constantly passing each other on the streets
Each containing its own world
Each with a different destination in mind
Sometimes we collide
Causing sparks to glint off of our metallic outer shells
Before propelling us in a different direction
Throwing us off course
We carry things and people with us
And when we cross paths with others our loads become either heavier or lighter
Sometimes we breakdown from lack of proper care
And need someone to put us back together
And get us running again
Why must we pass by each other so quickly?
When will we stop?
Chad Chumley May 2014
“Thanks for the ride.”
I often say.

With no car and only a bike or a bus
To get me around.

If my friends (or even strangers at times)
Will give me rides I can only
Say I’m blessed.

I hate those contraptions that
Buzz around.
So cut off from others unlike a bus,
Yet so fast unlike a bike.
It can take you anywhere unlike a bus.

I’m in love with cars just like every other American,
But please cut down on the greenhouse gases
For the future.

I still hate cars.
Maybe even those that have them think the same.
Clare Apr 2014
The line of vehicles never end
I wonder where they're off to
All speeding, occasionally screeching
furiously honking and shouting,
I wonder where they are off to.
They come in all colours,
they go away in darkness
I sit by the window day after day
Wondering where they go off to.

— The End —