Slashed Tires

The 2 A.M Writer

No more wick, no more flame

Seems all of the same

Running on exhaust fumes and a damaged battery

Yet this road gets more and more cracked

Hate her, Hate him

It's just a vision of the familiar mirror

We grease our mirrors so they shine

But even grease shows it's true form

Burn this, burn that

Scrapbook gone and ash

Dust collected and dumped

Memories buried and resurfaced commonly

  • Author: The 2 A.M Writer (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 4th, 2016 16:50
  • Comment from author about the poem: About how when your being held down by problems or anything really and it feels like you're just barely going on. Kind of like driving with slashed tires, eventually you just can't keep going.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 35
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