I see their brown complexions
With even brighter faces
That drive all day, stand guard all night,
and clean in between.
I am shattered glass,
scattered in the wind,
and thus torn up;
*A Million Pieces.

Pens clash with keypads
and papers duel with screens,
Time fights for its life
and the past re-surges to haunt me
While I cower behind fear
hiding from
the *future.

I'm an open book,
dusty, from waiting
for you to read me.

Maybe I'll hear your distinct funny laugh
even across murmurs and mechanical hums
in a subway in Singapore
       Maybe I'll find you  
behind smoke from exotic dishes cooking;
where the aroma of spices is wafting
up into the humid Indian air
       Maybe I'll see your sweet face
reflecting the colorful glows
of fireworks painting the night sky
in a fiesta in Mexico
       Maybe I'll come across you
at a sandy Guatemalan shoreline,
where the crashing waves
could add rhythm
to the poems that we make
       Maybe when I'm stranded
you'll tap on my car window
to help me out of a snowstorm in Canada
that your tropical skin hates
       Maybe we will share
the same park bench in DC
and we could contemplate all day
on our countries' intertwined histories
       Maybe we will
gasp in surprise
squeal in delight
and give each other
a tight handshake
a big high five
or maybe even
a warm embrace
       Maybe we live thousands or even
hundreds of thousands of miles apart
but one way or another
we will see each other again
        **I will make that a certainty

We're stuck in a terrible traffic jam
Of a river of red lights.
At the car dashboard there is a faint green glow:
It's 11 pm.
I already feel tired for tomorrow
Even if it hasn't started yet
For I know I have to wake up at 5 am.

As my mind fills with fatigue and frustration
I hope in my heart
That my dad would never stop driving.
I wish that he would
     drive
            d r i v e
                  d  r  i  v  e
                        and  d   r   i   v   e
To wherever the road takes us and just
Let the dim orange street lamps lead us
To a brighter tomorrow.

I beg to break free from the city borders for
I can't seem to take the stress out of me
So just take me out of the stress.
Let this auto's mechanical hum
Drown my thoughts.
Let every revolution of the wheel
Oust the monsters reigning,
Preying on my mind.

The greens of the rain forests and rice fields,
The blues of the mountains and the ocean
Would zoom in smudged colors
In the artwork that is my window.
Roll it open and the wind
Would gently kiss my face and stroke my hair.
I will sigh,
Releasing the remnants of
My exhaustion and combusted fossils exhausted,
And filling my lungs with the air smelling
Of pine trees and the ocean breeze.

So I hope that we would never stop driving,
And let the road take us anywhere
I don't really care
As long as its
Anywhere but here.