Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
I’m on a road trip to a place called crazy
but my tank is empty and my windshield’s got a crack.
The lane’s are foggy and my vision’s hazy,
but I don’t give a single **** ‘cause I’m not coming back.

And the streets are dark and my headlight’s are broken,
My seatbelt’s fastened so tight that I am chokin’.
My tires are popped and my engine is burning
at the green I stopped but kept on learning.

I could never drive fast enough
to escape what’s left behind.
Admiring skid marks and envying every scuff
I’ll keep going even when I’m deaf and blind.

I’m on a road trip to a place called crazy
it’s settled in between “grief” and “regret.”
I’m sure a bus runs there, although I’m lazy,
and timing’s the only thing I forget.

And the streets are dark and my headlight’s are broken,
my speakers blew out, but there’s words to be spoken.
My brakes are shot and my signals are mixed,
it’s the only ride I’ve got, but it can’t be fixed.

And I’ll pass by landmarks on the side of the road,
but won’t stop for a picture, don’t want to waste a smile.
I’ve been riding the back of a trailer that cautions a heavy load,
I could pass it but I’ll stay behind for one more mile.

I could never drive fast enough
to escape what’s left behind.
I’ll keep going even though the road is rough,
I’ll keep travelling until I find my mind.
Em MacKenzie
Written by
Em MacKenzie  35/F/Ottawa
(35/F/Ottawa)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems