Fugitive World

The woman in front of me
Coughs like she has pneumonia.

I move to the back of the car.

There, a man absent-mindedly repeats to himself:
“You won’t get me! ” like a hundred times a minute.
I look out the window as if I’ve seen a ghost.

The man next to me moves to the front of the car.

poem by Jade TheBird
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!