Cars

Sun, 12/03/2017 - 23:57 -- rtare

I was told that the greatest invention of human history are cars

They cruise you around, they let you travel to places, they give you freedom

I, on the other hand, do not believe it is the greatest invention

I wasn’t interested in learning it, nor using it

I believe that my calves are better of with walking than stomping on the gas and calling it a day.

I believe that in life you have to travel with your own legs, with your own energy

But, I’m a hypocrite and would love to drive a sweet ride.

I can cruise around, travel to places, and have freedom.

If only I know how to drive.

But I can’t because I’m scared.

Scared of drifting away, scared of crashing and burning.

I was always the passenger. Watching the driver do his or her job.

Heck, reminds of how I am not in control. Reminds of how inferior my so called American Freedom is.

I wanted to go in this place, that place, or any place. Away from all the troubles, away from the driver.

But I was scared. I was scared of a slippery slope, I was scared of the stop signs, I was scared to lead my life back on the road.

Cars always remind of the harsh reality that the driver is always in control. My life I do not possess. It is theirs. My safety I can not guarantee. It is theirs.

But over that glass windshield, I wonder why my thoughts is yearning for the wheels. Hoping that I can lead it somewhere, anywhere, away from my destiny and fate.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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