Lost MAG

By Ruth F., Lawton, MI

     We take the corners much too fast,

And even though we’re lost

We know we’ll find our way back.

Distant flashers burn red,

But we keep our speed

All while changing lanes.

Welcoming green exit signs

Signal a false sense of home.

But we know we must drive past.

I keep my foot steady,

And I’ll try my hardest never to look back

(After all, this car only moves forward).

The wind blows across my car,

Whispering things I cannot hear.

Maybe when I reach the place

I don’t know how to find

Maybe then all the whispers and

Shadows made by the passing street lamps

Will make sense.

Maybe then the sky will smile and

I’ll stop the car, finally reaching

The place I can’t find





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This article has 2 comments.


i love this !

on Sep. 29 2009 at 2:17 pm
this was a very confusing story with us being 14 and not being able to drive. you could maybe describe your senses a little more so we could relate.


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