i am on a long gray highway,
and i don’t know where it ends, 
or if there is an end, and if it will
be worth a thing.

who laid this asphalt? how long
did it take? and is he somewhere else
now, in a truck, 
doing it again?

road and cars and clouds and trees.
yes, it seems that the sky is frowning upon
this tired gray parade.
what are we trying to attain?

the abstract notion of success, made concrete.
a line of cars, unmoving, to work, school.
no spark, eyes emptied like coffee cups.
and us kids: cold, caffeinated, confused.

where is the emotion, the inspired flits 
of uncontainable energy and a shouted message?
why are we stagnating on a highway?
(this convenient slab of Somewhere, Suburbia).

our jobs, our school work, our practical
and our paper.  hell, we don’t care 
about cheating our ways to the top.
forget the knowledge, we want a job!

but a blind eye is turned to our ways,
because they do it too. a line is continued.
the corrupting and the corrupted 
all in one place, playing their separate games.

(did you see the purple hues streaking the sky last night?)

this traffic, exasperated. beeeeep.
b-beeeep beeep beeeeeeep.
don’t they know i’ve got places to be? 
and it’s already 7:03.

Time, that entitled little b**** that ticks.
she won’t stop, will she?
not even for me?
oh, it’s raining now.

where does this highway lead, and is it worth it?
i don’t know what i’m doing, and i just can’t see
the end of this thing.
(is it only me?)