Beverage Air

Written on a mission trip to H.O.M.E. while sitting in front of a refrigerator.

As I sit here with the droning buzz of the Beverage Air
Nestled under the pounding of the guys upstairs
Yet above the murmur of the voices there
And I sit and write without the stares
And without the worries of papa bear
Amongst a group which is truly rare
I see the balance of mercy and being fair
While the amoeba tries to fill the air
And I laugh at the ridiculous pair
Trying as best I can not to pull some hair
As I realize they really do dare
While people try to find the wares
As I listen to the droning buzz of the Beverage Air.