Poem 2015/03/28

The wheels turns and the diesel burns
as I drive down this road growing ever so dark and cold.

I grab a gear and pass by here,
a place all drivers dread to cross.

With a sign on the road that says Closed
I wind on up this old truck as fast as it can go.

And then scream on in to where it all began
and lay my head on a pillow once more.