Rust
by james bezerra
When I look at my car
I realize how far
my life has strayed from my dreams.
My old aspiration now seems
like simple folly;
clearly I was naïve.
Who did I think that I could be?
That I would ever own a car that’s pretty?
The reality however
is that if I do need to leave
this place and go to another
the car I have always starts reliably.
.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment