I drive blindly, never missing a turn or curve,
always keeping my cool, never losing my verve.
It’s farcical how concentrating lets my mind wander;
vacuously gazing at the stars, starting to ponder:
“What does it all mean?”, “Why am I here?” – blah blah,
hearing those naive life cheerleaders, “Smile! Smile! Rah! Rah!”
The lack of respect for boundaries previously created
compels me to the point of becoming dreadfully hated.
I burn my bridges to the point of devastation
and obtusely wonder, “How will I float back to the concept of creation?”
I drive alone, amongst my ashes;
staring at the other drivers, staring at the crashes.
I grasp the notion of my triviality,
but I do not understand the necessity for such brutality.
The road I love, this road I hate,
flooded with my tears, it begins to incinerate.
You’ll think it’s pathetic that it helps me survive;
but it has been and will always be my simple salvation drive.
In image form: