Streaks

from worn out wipers

dented cans, plastic wrappers

the glow of a cigarette ****

lying comfortably 
in the ashtray

white knuckles tight

on a weathered wheel

empty roads

cold and black

eyes tired but open

like trucker stops

or roadside diners

with the neons

still on

I keep driving

teetering between

my existence

and a sweet dream

I’d slip into that slumber

if not for the passengers

still fast asleep
in my back seat

So I keep driving

as quiet 
and as lonely

as it may be

I keep driving

because 
somebody

is putting
 their trust
 in me

There is a funny way life drives you through.
It is difficult, it is painful and without a clue.
There are many paths you can take,
But you can only walk through one at a time.
And if you choose the wrong one,
Life beats you, but still expects you to go on.
Life brings joy and happiness as well,
Don't think only "horror" in life dwells.
It gives you others to lead you through.
It shows you who is there no matter what you do.
Life always tends to fight with death,
And sometimes death is the champion.
For it takes innocent loved ones or any who dwell in life,
And blames it on life alone, so we reproach it for death lies.
Death laughs in our face, over and over and over again.
It calls us a "naïve creation" for being so blind,
We **** our own everyday, just like we **** our minds.
We think with abortion there is something we will gain.
Life is upset because each day we care less.
It fights for us to take the right path but we go our own way.
Life wakes us up from unconsciousness and helps us not to astray,
But we reject and blame life for our own mistakes.
Life doesn't leave us, for we know not what we play.

When you
wake up in the morning
do your bones
ache?
Have you forgiven
yourself?
Because I
haven't,
and I don't understand
why you get to
feel less guilty than
I do
even though
you're the one
who's done wrong.