Stumbling, bumbling, I found myself tumbling
through the realms of my dreams, half broken,
and I came upon my car.
She had a voice, gently purring, that invited a drive,
so in I climbed…
it was the ride of my life.
Gears winding and grinding, vain efforts in finding
the roads that might lead to my dreams, half broken,
I realized I had no control.
She spoke to me, slightly slurring, all through that trip,
dulling my senses…
for the ride of my life.
…and she took me to a playground…
iron jungles in frozen grey stances
crying out for the screams of the vibrant.
Once, full of joy, now forgotten…
Ice… hanging
like frozen tears of the dead,
the children had fled,
leaving desolate echoes of cries still yearning
for the touch of exuberant fantasies,
and in the midst of it all
stood a mirror, so tall…
in which could be seen a white car, driving…
Leaping up in a sweat, I looked around.
Tan carpet, white walls and a flashing alarm clock,
everything looked the same,
except now, the shadows…
they reflected forgotten giants, intersecting
in frozen grey stances,
only waiting for the touch of a child
to birth dreams
that will never be dreamt,
and I suddenly realized, those frozen tears…
they were mine.
I…
was the reason they fled…
Maybe that’s why, sometimes late at night,
I want to get in my car, step on the gas,
and drive to the edge of midnight…
Driving, surviving, until I find a reviving
of the dreams I once had, half broken,
if it’s even possible in a car.
Escaping her voice, years enduring, that gnawed me in half,
‘til I run out of gas…
never returning again to my life.
…and then?
I’ll start walking.
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