when I drive at night
on empty open roads sunk comfortably in mountain ranges
I'm always driving to the same place
transported between yellow and white lines
curling over the state lines
they drew on dirt below the black asphalt
further on into deep turning circles
spinning wheels beneath palms and soles
spinning thoughts tirelessly rotating
the turns that don't come might lead me home
down along winding roads
up and into a direction I know well
and haven't seen in a while
my dim brights don't show me much of the way
but I see just enough ahead
to know I'm driving in circles
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About the Creator
Fiachra O'
I like writing about thoughts
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