The water on the ground
Is no longer fake,
As I take a look in the rearview.
Huh, I’m crying.
And it’s in this moment
I take a second
To accept the fact
I miss you.
Oh how I wish
I’d known,
Before driving
These backroads alone
My heart and soul
Are objects of old,
And bigger
Then they appear.
That this pathway to heaven
Gripped by desert horizon
Was just escape for a women
Who cannot function
And is blinded
By fear.
Well, that’s life.
I tried.
Goodbye.
I ride.
Until the end of time,
My dear.
A new poem, about the old country and a love past.