literature

Road to the End

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Literature Text

I'm sitting shotgun in a car,
It's not the best and not the worst.
It's as fast as a shooting star,
Yet as dangerous as a deathtrap.

The driver is everyone in my life,
They control my paths and take me along the road,
While the destination is crystal clear.
The car gets damaged along the way,
Endangering my very existence.


Sometimes, it feels worse than it is.
I keep thinking there's a huge dent in the front,
When I look, there isn't a dent, but a scratch.
It feels like more than a scratch, maybe a rip.
I can't help but feel such things.

The paint job on my car begins to fade,
And I feel hideous, ruined and shot.
I think comforting words to myself,
"I can fix it... I can fix it.."

Reality is, I don't know how to fix cars.
I can't mend a dent, scratch or fade.
I can't fix what I don't know about.
I can't reverse what I can't control.

I'm doomed to die, and my life is a roller-coaster.
There's not much time, and there's just about forever.
Sometimes I want it to end, and others I don't.
But we all have to keep trudging on, flat tire or not.
No matter how damaged our cars get, we have to drive on.
The Road to the end has only begun.
For those who cannot guess it, the car represents emotions. The more emotionally damaged you are, the harder it is to move on. The more damaged the car is, the harder it is to work correctly.

Inspired by some people who've really upset me lately. This is a vent, and if they ever see it, it'll be the first thing they've seen from me in a long time.

Art (C) Me
© 2010 - 2024 RingtailFox
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