As with my previous poem, this is pretty much how I felt when I had to fly to Washington D.C two weeks ago. This is the flight there.
I'm shaking so hard
As I look out the window
The world is laid out
Beneath me.
The cabin is loud
Babies crying, engines roaring
And the jet shakes
As hard as I am.
I'm soaring higher than
The bone-white clouds
The fall is further
Than any bird has flown.
Lakes the color of tears
Hills no larger than my thumb
Pass beneath me, and are gone in a glance.
Only the deep blue sky is above me
Truly, I sit on top of the world.
But the pain in my stomach
The pop in my ears
Reminds me that man was not meant to fly.
We pass a mountain that snakes
Its way across miles of land
Are those the Appalachian Peaks?
For a moment, as I stare
I think I see the fabric of
Existance, and it is more than beautiful.
Truly, we are blight upon the world
I see brown runoff flowing into a lake
And I despair for nature
Because we have won.
There is nothing to hold us back
And the world will suffer
As we destroy ourselves.
I lose my train of thought
As the captain begins to speak
We will land soon.
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