• A DRIVING POEM


    sometimes we sense our fate
    and the highway before us
    is clear for a little ways
    even in the thickest of forests,
    sometimes we ignore the sign
    and run headlong into hurt
    choosing to drive though we’re blind
    through accidents we might avert,
    but most times we stop the car
    and in fear refuse to run the road
    and run out of gas too lazy to even start,
    safely out of the race we’ve throwed
    while complaining all of the time
    how our thoughts all seem to rhyme.