With..
the windows rolled down,
cars hiss loudly by,
They trample dreams in careless abandon..underfoot.
under tire..no more zeal,
gone the fire.
Dreams,
they choke on dusty air! as strains from long forgotten songs..
squeeze through tinny..tiny speakers in an old car...
Pleading..
for new audiences unaware of their existence.
Slim hopes hang in the air like spider-trapped flies'
dancing in the air..wrapped in their little webs of death!
and with bated breath,
struggle to escape!
I am fear come to pass,
a husk of despair in a world of hope..
and I dance like the puppet..
when the curtain rises,
one day more.
About the Creator
Victor Mendez
Born in 1958.There's a lot of road beneath these feet.Worn out pairs upon pairs of shoes.Been a ranch kid,a city kid,a Marine,a dad, a grandfather now,an avid reader and just recently began writing poetry in 2015 just to vent.
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