Long Drive

Sitting all alone

no messages on my phone

memories running wild

as if it were a child

Contemplating my surroundings

it’s just a blur resounding

Music is blaring

ruining my ears

I wont be able to hear in a few years

books all around me

begging to let the words free

I want to read

Where’s my reed?

so I can play

my clarinet all day

getting a little hungry

maybe even a little sleepy

dreams don’t come easy

Outsides a little blusterous

Disturbed out of vile thoughts

NO! please, stop

Dreaded discussion

I might as well have a concussion

Thoughts of insubordination

seep through slowly

not quite wholly

but for once I want to run freely