Veins are wild roads and my rage
Drives through them;
Meeting dead ends, boiling my blood.
Rotten roots collide—I cannot sing.
I'm paved with lost destiny or
Halted dreams that remain soldered
To any burnt-out lamppost abandoned.
Signs simmer, metal clanging
On hellish asphalt as selfish drivers
Run them over—they won't look back.
My thumb points out, looking for a chance
To steal, a ride to take, but I have
An inkling that it won't do any good.
I'm on my own roads—I see
A sign I missed in my cracked
Rearview mirror and I've come to
Realize that these roads have my ownership.
I am the one who paved them, while I think
Others run me down and destroy;
Flinging cracks into my hard work—
Boiling me from the inside.
Most importantly, I now know I
Could've stopped it with roadblocks
Manifested by the self-worth that I
Chose to bury deep in the woods—realizing
It is not too late to dig it up, wash off the
Dirt in the oncoming rain, and then
Promptly drive away.