A car clips down the road
I’ve been driving for ¾ of a year
It feels like eternity
I think about a long life
Filled with driving
Immensely long
Immensely important
What will the future hold
Who knows
Hopefully it will be good.

It chugs along
Stuffed with belongings
En route to a new city
With new people

The further in the future
It gets more blurry

How many kids
Not quite sure
Some helmets perhaps

The blurry figures get bigger
And bigger
The days will belong
And the years short

The blurs multiply exponentially
The group grows
You can see it all
Through the tinted windshield.

What will the future hold?
Hopefully it will be good.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem