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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1285114
fear. hope. loss.
My gas tank's running on
Late night fears and hopes,
My rear view mirror's looking back on
Faded dreams and a loss of innocence.

The radio's on but no one's listening
The windshield's blurry, but there's no fog,
Taking turns too fast,
And shortcuts with the headlights out

Trying to make it home on belief,
Trying to see myself through to tomorrow on memories,
Trying to make my way through to the months it takes,
'Cause these days are too long,
The nights are too short,
And my flame is burning out.
© Copyright 2007 Merlot Vivre (chyenne at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1285114-Burning