Flying down the sleet covered ground.The stop is suggested
and I flip off my brights to see the other directions' traffic
and I wonder,
'What will our kids think? How will they feel?"
I mean
ten years from now,
will we sit together for a family meal?
I mean, I get that you're angry and hurt and ****** off and, if we're honest, it's only a glimmer of thought in the vast sea of doubt that covers hope for you.
The feeling I feel when I walk in from work and I take off that shirt and see all of their smiles, I could walk for miles on that feeling. Endure torture, starvation.
I couldn't go back to that lower elevation.
I know you'd abhor me to hear that I mourn us, our future. But Justice is served with both eyes just like yours that drew me before, and I know you'll be sore for a very long time.
I always try to level the gravel with my moving tires in my driveway,
and I think, 'What would it be like, if we could be civil and happy one day?'
Has your sane worn too thin? Is there no salvageable man? Have you so lost your way?