It’s like we were all one big car load of mistakes.
Driving on the fumes of forgotten familiar musk.
A smudge, per say, half lit with good intentions.
Blind, drunk and happy,
misleading others to the river of uninterrupted daydreams.
Wonderful misfits of bad habits,
living in a world of…
nothing is what it seems.
In times of self-pity,
I pull the roads of happy, dusty, destiny…
up next to me.
In my own antiquated way,
I am a beat up Volvo on display.
Not looking for trouble…
but knowing it will come my way.