Rain makes trails on the windshield
like the tears pouring down her face
hands grasp the steering wheel
but she does anything but steer.
She's going nowhere fast;
after all, she's only fleeing...
Only fleeing her own thoughts
only hiding away from her memories.
He's speeding down the highway,
fuming over how noone truly sees him
he tries his damnedest every day
yet, every night, still feels unappreciated.
He's going nowhere fast;
just to find what he's been missing...
Flying down that rain-wettened road,
he knows he's getting closer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem