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Rlott706

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since January 2015
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The Drive

January 22, 2015

Riding along in the Chevy I know too well,

the rumbling of the engine filled the space

that the radio couldn't anymore.

The sound of his voice make me

simper. He begs for me to sing along.

I try to resist, but join anyway.

The sun is sinking into the sky

little by little.

It peeks above the hills

to say goodbye before she leaves

causing his eyes to smile

brighter than the sun could ever be.

He raches for my hand and weaves

his fingures in between mine.

He gives me a squeeze and

smirks at me. He turned away

looking back to the road.

But he doesn't let me go.

We continue down the road

with a destination still waiting to be discovered.

Our whereabouts irrelevant

because we were here for the drive,

we were here for each other.

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