The Morning DriveThe Melancholy Stream
30 Mar 2016
I hate this morning drive.
I hate it every morning time.
For my eyes stare upon the black top tide.
I lose myself in time.
To another place faraway.
Into the hope and dreams, that I dare to be true.
Pulling myself back to this lonely drive.
Realizing my windshield is full of grime.
I wash it away with my windshield wipers monotone voice.
Rocking me back to sleep like a child, to surrender myself into those dreams.
Only waiting to awake to the next morning drive.