a way that I knew well
and if I write my story
there's part I'll never tell
my car sped fast on winding roads
running through the gears
and with the sunroof open
wind whistles in my ears
all the things I leave behind
that don't matter now
and in my rearview mirror
I glimpse my worried brow
I never thought I'd really go
thought it would always last
looking back on memories
that now are fading fast
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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