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The Great Escape

My lights are stabbing deep
Into the darkness of the night.
The centerline is slithering
Like a snake about to strike.

The gears are really tugging,
I can feel the pistons moan;
And what is gained when steel is pained?
Well, at least I’m not alone!

The pressures and frustrations
That a man so often feels,
Are sent into the distance
With the spinning of the wheels.

High above the city lights
And winding up the grade,
I leave behind a troubled mind
As tensions slowly fade.

I guide it onto gravel
Just a moment from the top;
I venture to a viewpoint
And I idle to a stop.

First the music, then the motor,
Then the lights are all shut down;
I stare out o’er the dashboard
As I listen to the sound

Of my left-front tire deflating,
And the thought comes to my mind;
You can try to run from troubles,
But they’re not that far behind.

It’s not so bad, when down or sad,
To escape from all your cares;
But bring your sense of humor for
What hits you unawares!

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.



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