Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

DEAD END

 

Almost 300,000 miles on me

my tires are worn

shocks are shot

belts are thin

running on fumes

but still I'm going down the road

100 miles per hour

I don't care

that I'm coming to a dead end

with no guard rail

and a ditch

in my mind I'm thinking

no problem

when I get to the end

I'll just do a 180

turn around

and come back.

 

 

◄ GOOD EGG

3RD CHILDHOOD---a poem by O.L. Buzzerd ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message