Your Poetry Dot Com - RACING MINDS

Array ( [sid] => 166691 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => RACING MINDS [time] => 2011-07-05 12:40:40 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Riding along,
Running faster now,
Steady, alone,
The highway blurs.
Speeding along ,
In my Chevrolet
Wind in my hair
As the roadway parts.

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.

Screech to a halt,
I’m not flying now
Tires are worn
And you’ve captured me.
Engine has stopped ,
Breaks to the floor,
You have set me free

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.

Song on the radio,
Summer of ’69,
Over the limit,
I am keeping time.
Dodging traffic,
As I swerve,
The highway is my home.

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.
( The highway is my home.)
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 133 [topic] => 43 [informant] => bigbadblinkybill [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - RACING MINDS

RACING MINDS
Date: Tuesday, 5th July 2011 @ 12:40:40 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: bigbadblinkybill

Riding along,
Running faster now,
Steady, alone,
The highway blurs.
Speeding along ,
In my Chevrolet
Wind in my hair
As the roadway parts.

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.

Screech to a halt,
I’m not flying now
Tires are worn
And you’ve captured me.
Engine has stopped ,
Breaks to the floor,
You have set me free

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.

Song on the radio,
Summer of ’69,
Over the limit,
I am keeping time.
Dodging traffic,
As I swerve,
The highway is my home.

Do I want to stop?
Will you make me see?
Burning rubber,
Make me find what is in front of me.
Flashing lights
Moving faster now
Racing from what is blinding me.
( The highway is my home.)

This poem is Copyright ยฉ bigbadblinkybill

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