Out of Fuel
A few words for our times
Sunrise - usually only mine,
as I watch a hundred
cars in queues,
not on a motorway this time,
but slowly running
out of fuel.
Running on empty, I think of you;
a lonely planet
lost from view.
Sunrise - usually only mine,
as I watch a hundred
cars in queues,
not on a motorway this time,
but slowly running
out of fuel.
Running on empty, I think of you;
a lonely planet
lost from view.
--
Wearer of many hats; private poet, parent in parentheses, perpetual nerd.
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