If they knew what was going on inside my head.
Driving close to 80 on the highway
A pickup truck in front of me
It’s bed full of wooded slats.
What if, I say to myself
a sharp piece of wood came through my windshield and stabbed me in neck?
Yet I would decide to keep driving till I made it to the hospital.
-
Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: November 6th, 2024 09:59
- Comment from author about the poem: This is an actual thought I had once. Created: 11/2/24 (Very fitting for how I feel today)
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.