Overheads click shut after international travelers stuff their carry-ons in.
the sound of the turbines becomes more evident
with ever yard there is a bump, each time more frequent than the last.
just as soon as a few minuets past,
we find out selves climbing fast
as many lives are not in your hands
we travel away from our home lands
the man in front of me wont stop moving his seat back.
the captain announces turbulence as confidently as the girly weather man
the earth divided into squares, roads weaving through
clouds form a spotted surface, at only 37,000 feet.
the incredible mystery of flight.
carry me to the highest height.
watching cities become towns
we fall a sleep without sounds
the sun to the back, chasing our way across the world.
everything seems a little less lifelike when the sky is black.
Images of open meadows or the ocean coast flood the mind as some sleep
others think of liars, or how they used to be friends
staring out at nothing, for the sake of being alive
thinking of things that I left behind
hoping for friends that I will find
wishing for places that I will see
while you stand and wait for me
I am gone on a days notice
skipping from car to plane, from plane to plane, and plane to car
clouds move quicker from the east
looking on as far as the eye can see
I guess this is for you and for many
as everything else got pushed out of my mind.
tunnel vision is defined as a direct line of sight
I call it flying