Lost Between Dreams

The car broke down again,
Smoke clouding up the barren
Road. Smelled as if I lit
The engine with a match, tarring
My nose acrid, forcing me
To cringe.

I can't remember if a town was passed
As I whirled across the plain
Like a gypsy finding their way home.

The beat-down Mustang took me to
Places that eyes would never look at,
Wouldn't want to look at. Car rusted
Near all handles and key holes like
Gates holding back kids from breaking
Glass windows at broken down factory.

It was flat as a table where I started.
Trucks stood like buildings, holding
Something important.

No use pushing the damn thing.

Reviews

[Markymark]

Well I hope you found your dreams. This must have been an earlier piece. Many of your pieces are much more abstract, harder to comprehend, much harder to review. Don't know if this was fictitous poetry or not but it seems as though you experienced it. I like it. I'm still working on Emerald Rain.

Markymark