Hot feet, impatient to eat the miles,
Get past – over, through, round – the
Heart attack jams on this
Stretch of cold-as-business road.
Runes, signs, lines
Whispering at me
“Blue open skies
Are nothing but lies,
Friends will make you weaker …”
But the technology that,
Yesterday, was going to be
All I’d ever need:
To get ahead,
Stay the pace
Is strangling my soul,
Selling my secrets.
Things are always
The way you see them;
Until they change …
Or you do.
Nice
Thanks, appreciate the feedback, glad you liked it.
racing clocks
~
lapping the leader
place out of pace