PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Street signs litter every corner

Giving us direction

At those busy intersections in the morning.



Waking up inside your room so white

And headed out as you begin your fight today.

Right turn signal

Leads you out of your driveway.

Here you stand a car so single

At the blinding light.

Struck with awe by all the cars that mingle

In front of your sight.

Life gives you the go ahead in form of green

And you disappear ahead

Merge onto the scene.



Peace, tranquility abound

Just loiters to the radio sounds

And soon you start to sink into a higher ground.

Life so full of gas as you step down onto the metal found

Right by your toes

Your first day driving seamlessly unfolds.



Soon to be cut off

By that asshole taking Yields, bitter with the hand he's dealt.

That placid aura starts to melt.

No longer gliding on the pavement

As your tires scream for rearrangement.

Meet your first reality check

And learn how to avoid a wreck.



Staring in perplexion

At the intersection

Watching every imperfection of the roads

Handled by the 'No Right Turn's'

Offering a sense of plan and just what you should learn.

That said, keep watch for all the times you sped

Right past the 'Reduce Speed Ahead.'

Although at times you feel the burn to screw the yield

You might just feel the losing of the sweetness felt when cruising

Past the open fields.



Night falls, only to reveal

Your gas is near the guided zero.

Looking back on all the times you could have played the silent hero.

But no... You halted at every red light

And stumbled safely through the green

Slowing mellow at the yellow

Never knowing what it means

But satisfied you had a blinding guide with you

Something to steal the time from you.

But how these street signs lie to you.



Car battered and bruised over the streets that you would choose.

Tattered hood.

Mileage never understood.

Engine that has binged in pumping oil for no reasons good.

Low on fumes

Churning any gas that's left to look for some junkyard to rest.

How you waste the day's imagination

With ample direction but no destination.

Tires losing life and air through pointless wear and tear...



How you failed to make a crease within these streets at any cost.

How they've worn the car you've torn and all but lost.

Breathing sickly vapors through your weak exhaust...