Saturday, June 06, 2015

Poem a Day VI


The cars go sailing past us;
the roar along the roadway
makes a thrumming, rumbling noise
from which we can never hide.

Always furious with speed,
driven by some inner need
to race beyond the ruthless tide
from which we can never hide.

1 comment:

  1. Itinérante1:39 AM

    I was wondering what makes people feel rushed all the time...


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