Cars are moving slowly;
At some glances, they already got faces.
Slower than the worms' crawling,
Almost never improved out from their phases.
Their headlight eyes are sometimes blinking
But often times, they are steady.
Sitting on car seats may or may not be a good feeling
But anytime this ride would end, I'll be ready.
Be it grumpy face or drowsy eyes,
Their expressions already live in our imaginations.
Cars as people, motorcycles as flies;
Maybe, this trip is not boring at all----well, congratulations!
x,
Harmony
110118
11:52am
YOU ARE READING
Keepsakes
Poetry"How can I loosen these tangled thoughts? How do I get rid of this wary feeling? Should they be freed or should they be wrought?"
