broken-down, suburban, much too far to go
how far must i walk before i'll see her show?
my legs are tired, engine's dead, but i still have some gas
just enough left to get me safely to the last
mounting a mountain, piloted by a space ship
lost, wandering, alone- for her working ([T]hird [S]hift)
i'll get to her eventually, i know she's my ride
but how do i do it (all joking aside)?
maybe i'll get there once i've stolen it all
reaching for freedom, chasing me, a white cavalier- the fall
speaking, pleading, running: lying my way out of it
wanting only {HER}, completely tired of this s***
tired of fighting, running and word-fully wondering who
arrested by the reality of what i've done to you...

** see more of my poetry on my blog "Nothing Definite: Spontaneous, Combustible, Poetry" at http://gcool06.blogspot.com/ - thanks for reading (and writing)! **