The Life Empty and Amiss
The Life Empty and Amiss

The car was going at a steady ninety,
The rain was making the road slipper,
Yet the driver didn’t have a care at all,
His attention just decided to go AWOL,

His hands and legs steady as he sped down,
His face always changing, a smile and a frown,
The car was seemingly piloted by another,
For on his mind were all his mistakes, regrets and fears,

Far too obvious but far too late,
He chuckled out loud as he started to overtake,
Who did he think he was fooling anyway?
Just trying to deny the truth day after day,

He swerved to the left and cut to the right,
Never paying much attention to what’s in sight,
Well at this point there’s nothing much he can do,
So he just put the pedal to the metal and flew,

The car accelerated and picked up speed,
Him still oblivious even though his heart missed a beat,
He longed to just drive away, leave everything behind,
But sadly he’s still sane and very much in his mind,

He eased his foot off the accelerator,
And could feel life catching up, getting closer,
There ain’t no running away from it, it seems,
But then one can always have his dreams,

He chuckled once more at how obvious he was,
Ah but then he didn’t know, in emotions he was lost,
There’s naught that he can do at a time like this,
Even though much in his life is empty and amiss.


Author's Note: Hmm. is there such thing as... emotional constipation i wonder? haha. okay but that's beside the point. you know how western movies, the cowboy ones, they like to end with the protagonist riding off into the sunset? well, i had in mind of a person, so caught up in his thoughts he was driving mindlessly... and when aware, wishing desperately to be able to just drive away and leave his past behind you know?

isn't that such a huge temptation? to one day just up and leave and disappear and start anew? past mistakes, all erased? if you can couple that with amnesia, it'd be perfect.

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Now playing on iTunes: Barenaked Ladies - The Wrong Man Was Convicted
via FoxyTunes
stoned @ 6:38 PM
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Drip,
From my slit wrist,
My life.

Drip,
From my sad eyes,
My dreams.

Flow,
Gone; my life.
Shattered; my dreams.

- Kai Teoh, Seasons of September