Car Rides

Punk music blasting through the speakers. Warm summer air blowing through every strand of my hair. 

Friends in the back bobbing to the four four beat. Sunglasses are on to block the rays of the sun. Friends played rock, paper, scissors to see who will get shot gun. 

The scenery of the highway feels like a blur traveling at 70 miles an hour. No air conditioning, just fresh air. I feel as though when I put my foot on the gas, all my worries fade.

We're not really driving to a specific destination. We are just driving to drive. Driving because we are youthful. Driving because we have the freedom to do so. We'll probably stop to look at vintage guitar stores or catch up on some of our favorite froyo.

''We are the heroes of tomorrow.'' That's a phrase that continually pops into my head when I drive. Maybe we are. Maybe we are not. When I am driving I am writing the story, constructing the plot. 

Gripping the steering wheel, I feel so in charge. When I drive I feel like I am the author and the car is the pen. Where does my journey start? How does it end? The road is the paper. The tires are the ink. Stop lights are periods. Yellow lights are commas. Parallel parking is the climax, and finishing the park job is the conclusion. 

Car rides makes me jubilant. They make me smile and fills my life with exuberance. 

They simply make me feel good.. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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