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Traffic Jam
I get into my sweet new Ford Mustang,
I’m so pumped to take it on the road.
With a 500 horsepower engine,
people will be lookin’ at my muscle in awe.
I was mining Fool’s gold,
The defogger didn’t work,
I couldn’t see the path ahead.
And the engine was so loud,
that I couldn’t hear my radio tunes.
The road seems longer than its supposed to be.
This is it,
its on the next exit.
But there is something slowing down the stream.
There is a blockade up ahead,
even the carpool lane is full.
Lights flash on the dark road,
for the thunder only to come after.
Crash!
The Mouse Trap had finally gone off.
Rerouting
Rerouting
Rerouting
i’m just another driver,
who wants to take the next exit.
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This poem is my take on the iconic poem Harlem by Langston Hughes. It reflects upon one's journey towards achieving their dreams and what happens as there dream gets deferred.