deepundergroundpoetry.com
life's intersections
on the back of a motorcycle
of a sudden unstable man
he flew me through intersections
filled with flashing lights and spike strips
he flew me through
flashes of the rest of my ending life
he raced us away
north
through hills and curves to trees and cabins
and i was even more fear full
he did what he wanted
and after
the bike wandered back
in a safe wind to the city
i can not
to this very day
know the why
i am not cold and buried
Published 2nd Dec 2015
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2nd Dec 2015 1:46pm
there is always a reason why you're not cold and buried until you are cold and buried :-)
good stuff :-)
good stuff :-)
3rd Dec 2015 7:14am
young & foolish eventually gives way to older & wiser.
sure, this is a ride...
sure, this is a ride...
