Trapped Freedom
I start my journey at night,
wishing upon a shooting star,
I hope the trip is quick.
I wish for an empty road,
sixteen hours to go.
A cross-country stretch of road,
made for travel,
shuttling people and goods back and forth
The highway lined by cows and land,
two lanes on I-10, one fast and one slow.
There are two lanes for a reason,
one fast and one slow,
thirteen hours to go.
A minivan driving at 60 miles an hour on the left side,
how unsafe when the speed limit is 70.
Texas drivers drive fast,
speed kills but so does stupidity,
twelve hours to go.
Passing on the right-hand side feels alien,
strange how a difference in routine can affect you.
Peace,
an open road going places.
Eleven hours to go.
Next thing I know,
I am surrounded by 18-wheelers.
One in front, one behind, one on the left-hand side.
Curses and curses fall from my lips.
Impatience arrives once more.
Five minutes, Fifteen minutes, Fifty minutes,
no reprieve, no salvation, no way around this predicament.
Ten hours to go.
Finally, an open road,
I speed away,
cursing the drivers on the road.
The open road calls my name,
on and on, going places.
Never mind, I am trapped once more.
I still have ten hours to go.