Travelling thoughts
on too-well-known roads
blistering hands
and full-of-wind words
an hopeful sky
above wet slidy bends
looking at all
to wonder my mind tends
where these wheels
are spinning towards to
am I brave?
or just a blinded fool?
Travelling thoughts
on a quiet-cloudy day
the roads are dried
but it's starting to rain
skidding tyres
of reason seldom used
boiling engine
of an heart too confused
so too much power
and the back doesn't grip
slip, crash, bang
these roads a secret keep.
Travelling thoughts
now covered with gore
injured, panting,
borne on the road-shore
they die now
they won't travel nomore.
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