drifting
Learn more about other poetry terms
It’s late, and I’m coming down with a cold,
Or something of the sort.
I should be sleeping,
But I’m not ready
And yet, I don’t want to be awake either.
Can I just stop existing for a little while?
Windows down, smoke rolling in
The rumble of 800 horses ringing my ears
Sideways is where I choose to steer
It would make me feel complete
With so much torque at my feet
Drifting, is the dream that I seek
I don't own a lot of things
all i have are these set of strings
i played my way through the southern streams